Aniara **** / *****
Directed by: Pella
Kågerman and Hugo Lilja.
Written by: Pella
Kågerman and Hugo Lilja based on the poem by Harry Martinson.
Starring: Emelie Jonsson
(Mimaroben), Bianca Cruzeiro (Isagel), Arvin Kananian (Chefone), Anneli Martini
(The Astronomer), Jennie Silfverhjelm (Libidel), Emma Broomé (Chebeba), Jamil
Drissi (The Intendent), Leon Jiber (Daisi Doody), Peter Carlberg (Chief
Engineer), Juan Rodríguez (The Man from Gond), David Nzinga (Mima Host), Dakota
Trancher Williams (Tivo).
It is
interesting that the Swedish film Aniara is debuting in the weeks after Claire
Denis’ High Life came out in theaters. The two films are very different in many
ways, but do have some definite similarities. Denis’ life is about a spaceship
with a limited crew – all convicts – who are set adrift in space never to
return to earth, ostensibly to have experiments done on them, but that may not
really be the case. Aniara is set aboard a large spaceship – the space equivalent
to a cruise ship really – who is supposed to be making a three-week journey
between Earth (which is dying due to climate change) and the new colony on
Mars. But fairly early in their journey, they run into some obstacles, and in
order to save the ship, they have to jettison all their fuel. This works – but
it basically means the ship is now adrift in space forever. The captain tells
people not to worry – they just need to pass by a planet to get them back on
track – two to three years at most, they say. Until then, the ship has enough
life sustaining systems in place that they can survive. The gourmet meals will
stop eventually – but you’ll be used to eating algae. What only a few of them
know is that this is almost definitely a pipe dream – they will likely be
drifting in space for the rest of their lives.
Based on
an epic poem by Nobel Laurete Harry Martinson, Aniara is fascinating film in
how it shows the ways this society either breaks down, and the ways in which it
doesn’t. It wouldn’t be accurate to call it a Lord of the Flies story, because
society doesn’t break down that rapidly. The movie’s main character is known as
the Mimaroben (Emelie Jonsson) – so called because she runs the Mima machine –
a kind of strange virtual reality room, that can read the users mind, and
present them with idyllic images of their time on earth. As the journey takes
longer and longer, more and more people start to want to use the Mima machine –
so much so that the sentient machine starts to go insane itself – starting to
show darker images to the people, and starting to malfunction. It’s the first
of several mini-rebellions throughout the film.
The years
drag on and on and on in Aniara – the film hopes forward, sometimes years at a
time, to show how everyone is dealing with things. There is a part about a sex
cult that forms – fuck the pain away I guess – and then more with how Emelie
tries to build some sort of life in the film itself – a spouse, a child, etc.
Homicidal rage is not prevalent – it gets there – but there is much more
suicidal despair. How does a society without hope continue to function? There
are a few times when hope is there – but it usually falls back into despair.
MR then
is pretty much the only character in the film that doesn’t lose complete hope –
that seems to try and move forward. The captain revels in his power, and will
eventually basically see the ship as his own fiefdom. Others are lost in the existential
despair of drifting forever without a destination. As we continue to tick
forward, things in the ship become slightly more rundown – but you can still
survive. But when you’re drifting with no destination, what is the point. MR
tries to hold onto to something – when everyone else seems to be lost. Aniara
is, of course, a microcosm of our own planet – our own existence. It’s just a
smaller planet, hurtling through space, on a journey without end. Are our lives
any different than those on Aniara? Is this the way humanity will come to an end?
Directors
Pella Kågerman and Hugo Lilja do a good job, on a limited budget, creating the
world of Aniara in terms of art direction and design. They also, smartly, don’t
really attempt to answer any of the larger questions facing everyone on board
the ship – they simply present them, and let you decide. And they take it all
the way to the logical, despairing, conclusion without trying to put any sort
of false hope or happy ending to it. By its design, because it is literally
showing years and years and years in only 105 minutes, the film does jump
around a little bit, from one subplot to another – ones that are often
abandoned in those jumps, as people have moved on in the interim. A tighter
focus may have provided more details – but you would have missed the larger
picture. It’s a tradeoff you have to be willing to accept – and if you do, you
will be rewarded by Aniara – which like High Life is a sci-fi film of ideas,
not special effects, and shows just what the genre can attain when it doesn’t
reign in its ambitions.
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