Left Me Speechless

Rating: 10/10 (10 January 2007)

I'm nearly at a loss for words.
"Children of Men" took my breath away with the sheer visual audacity of its storytelling and the deep strength of feeling contained in it. Alfonso Cuaron, adding his voice to the many other directors who have made post-9/11 films about the grim state of a world governed by terror and hopelessness, has given us one of the most memorable and dramatically satisfying films I've seen in a long, long time.
Much ballyhoo has greeted the trio of Mexican directors who released films this year, and people have been wetting themselves over Alejandro Gonzalez Innaritu's "Babel" and especially Guillermo Del Toro's "Pan's Labyrinth." "Children of Men" blows both of these films off the map. Cuaron's world view seems to be as grim as his compatriots, but unlike Innaritu and Del Toro, Cuaron seems to think that the world in which we live is worth saving and uses his movie to deliver a practical message of hope that resonates in the here and now. "Children of Men" is the most uplifting downer I think I've ever seen, and the long scene in which a small, crying baby temporarily halts the warfare and carnage taking place around it, for one instant uniting enemies in the wonder and glory of new life, reduced this viewer to tears (and I don't cry easily at movies).
Cuaron's visual style is absolutely stunning. He creates a meticulously detailed vision of a nightmare future that is all the more horrifying for its plausibility. And there are a couple of extended set pieces (I'm thinking most notably of the one in which a car containing our hero, Clive Owen, and a group of activists/terrorists is attacked by an angry mob, the entire scene filmed in one long take by a camera that never leaves the car) that astounded me with their showmanship. And yet, for all of its directorial panache, I never felt that style overwhelmed substance -- Cuaron ably and completely welds style to subject in such a way that his approach always perfectly serves the story he's telling without drawing attention to itself.
I think it's very interesting that the end of this film is inspiring so much debate, and that different people have completely opposite readings of it. Some think it's dismally depressing, lacking in any sign of hope. Others think it's optimistic, the happiest ending possible in such a dystopian work of fiction. I believe the ambiguity is intentional on Cuaron's part, and I personally came away exhilarated by the powerful message of hope, and a reinforcement of the belief that there will always be good people willing to do good things for others in the belief that the world can change for the better. Maybe I read into the ending what I wanted to read into it, but maybe that's the point. Perhaps those who think this movie has nothing to say have given up already on the state of the world, while those of us who find in it a happy ending are those who will continue to refuse to accept that a world governed by panic and fear is acceptable.
"Children of Men" makes a nice companion piece to this year's "Little Children," another downer that ended up being one of the biggest feel-good movies of the year for me. It's so refreshing to find that there are directors who want to do more than simply wallow in gloominess, and actually offer solutions even as they highlight problems.
Grade: A+