Children of Men: "Yeah, it's a miracle, innit?"

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Ted Chiang is said to have remarked that what distinguishes science-fiction and fantasy is possibility; science-fiction describes that which may one day be possible, whereas fantasy describes that which we can never have. So which is Children of Men?

It is 2027, and the world has gone to hell in a handbasket. Women haven’t been able to have children for more than eighteen years, and the resulting despair has pushed humanity into a chaotic frenzy of destruction. The lone holdout is Britain - bastion of civilization & rescuer of art from the pillaging hordes – but also a totalitarian regime where refugees are herded into cages and the state engages in torture. Theo (Clive Owen) has grown cynical and weary in this world without hope, when an old lover, Julian (Julianne Moore), leader of a resistance group called ‘The Fishes’, asks him for his help transporting a girl to the coast past security checkpoints. The girl, Kee (Claire-Hope Ashitey) is sullen, childish – and pregnant. Her only hope, and perhaps that of humanity, lies with her getting to a boat named Tomorrow, which will take her to the mysterious Human Project. Theo, at first recruited because his influential cousin can get them papers to get past the checkpoints, soon finds himself Kee’s de facto guardian and protector, and the two set out on a journey that is by turns frightening and moving.

Children of Men’s real power lies in the potentiality of the reality it depicts. Discard the device of the infertile women, and the rest of the picture – a world in total chaos – is one that becomes more and more possible with every passing day. In 2027, British citizens by and large ignore the human rights outrages that go on underneath their noses, just as now, developed countries turn a blind eye towards suffering elsewhere. For example, more than 52,563 Iraqi civilians have died because of war-related violence since 2003 – but if you include other effects, such as destruction of infrastructure, worsening healthcare, lawlessness, the numbers go up – massively – to 654,965 deaths, or 2.5% of the population, since 2003. And yet, Iraq remains on the periphery of our collective consciousness? But I digress. There are no flying cars in Alfonso Cuaron’s 2027 – it is our world, with way more flat-screen televisions and a lot more grime; rickshaws in the streets of London, and deer ambling through abandoned schools. That we learn a lot about the world in 2027, is to Cuaron’s credit, especially since he does it without clunky expository dialogue (which, apparently, he hates.) We hear an ad for a government-endorsed euthanasia medication in a train, or watch a message exhorting Citizens to denounce illegal aliens, & 2027 feels real, and all too possible.

Clive Owen’s Theo is as real and compelling as the world he inhabits, and rightly so, because at its heart, Children of Men is about Theo’s journey, from its beginning in London, to its end in – but I won’t spoil it for you. Theo’s actually quite like Ian Rankin’s John Rebus – a drunken sadsack one should never underestimate – but unlike Rebus, Theo never picks up a gun, and when he resorts to violence you know that he is as shocked and scared and squicked out as you are – and that’s especially remarkable considering Owen was on the short-list to play Bond and that some of his best work has involved him playing hard men (I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead, Sin City). It’s wonderful work by Owen and one hopes he gets some kind of award recognition for it. Claire-Hope Ashitey is a wonderful foil for him – Kee is irreverent, curious and wonderfully vital, picking out names for her child – Frolly, Bazooka – as gunfire blazes around them. Michael Caine, as Theo’s pot-smoking friend Jasper, is a joy to watch as always, as are Julianne Moore and Chiwetel Ejiofor as Luke, one of Julian’s Fishes.

Children of Men is not, by any means, a fun movie – but it is a great one, well worth the watch.

PS – You know how I said the movie was real? One exception – in a conversation with Jasper, Theo mentions that an ex-girlfriend of his left him to join a religious group whose members self-flagellate to do penance for their sins. Now I’m good with suspension of disbelief, but please. As if anyone who was dating Clive Owen would dump him in favour of self-inflicted pain!