One of the best scenes in last year's best movie--Children of Men--is in the deleted scenes. Theo (Clive Owen) is visiting his cousin Nigel (Danny Huston), who takes him on a tour of his art collection, acquired out of the world crisis and violence. At one point, they stop in front of a famous self-portrait:
NIGEL: Look at him--the old Dutch bastard. He's saying something. Can you tell what he's saying?
THEO: "Whatever."
NIGEL: Exactly. This bloke did some of the wickedest masterpieces in history. And here he is. Looking at you. At the end of his days. Regretful. Mischievous. "Whatever."
This brief (deleted) exchange is in keeping with the entire tone of the movie, which shifts almost magically between bittersweet sentiment (Theo suddenly crouching down and weeping after the death of Julian) and hard-edged cynicism (Theo's desire for money).
The movie is really about how people maintain their roles, even in the most extreme, anarchic of times. You get the sense in the film that monumental social and cultural upheavals don't necessarily bring out the "best" or "worst" in people, but rather confirm what they already were.
The fluidity of the camera work (the much-remarked upon long-take climax, complete with blood spatters on the camera lens, is even more powerful on subsequent viewings) belies this. The film is haunting because, while its style suggests a world in rapid flux, its characters seem to be confirmations of their previous selves. There is a powerful, almost film-noirish determinism at work in this film. For all its "good intentions" (and the bonus features--with the exception of the brief but terrific contribution by Zizek--are too full of good intentions) Children of Men is really a testament to the expressionistic doom that haunts our imaginations.
There is a beauty, a sad beauty, to the carnage of the future as imagined in this film. The abandoned elementary school, in particular, is haunting. The movie is spooked by hallways, corridors, and long streets. Like Blade Runner, Children of Men imagines a retro-futurism that engages in a peculiar sort of nostalgia: a nostalgia for the future.
For, in all honestly, who among us does not secretly wish for the sort of anarchic past that is imagined in the futurism of Children of Men? The movie is about social disintegration, dystopia, birth, and reluctant heroism. It is, in other words, about a version of our future that is rooted in a dirty and bloody past. The future never looked so inhabited as it does in this film, because we are witnessing a vision of the future that has already happened.


Brilliant analysis!
Posted by: Matt | April 23, 2007 at 11:06 PM
I actually wrote a short post on this recently. The short film with the Zizek interview is an excellent companion piece to Cuaron's film. This whole notion of nostalgia and the future is definitely worthy of more exploration. In that sense, this film's relation to Blade Runner is particularly interesting. Great post!
Posted by: Ted Pigeon | April 24, 2007 at 04:29 PM
Thanks Matt and Ted,
Sorry for the silence. Jury duty. I appreciate your comments.
Best,
Nick
Posted by: Nick | May 01, 2007 at 10:11 PM
This post screams "essay," Nick. Drop me an email, will ya?
Posted by: Peet | May 09, 2007 at 06:44 PM