FOE: The Lazy, Hazy Near-Future

Supposedly, this near-future world is dangerously overpopulated and environmentally degraded, but you would not know it from the vast lonely prairie vistas surrounding Henrietta (Hen) (who never has need of any protective gear). She endures the loneliness that drove the Badlands settlers mad. For her husband Junior, this is what life is supposed to look like. Perhaps that is why their marriage has been strained. However, they must soon spend a year apart, except maybe not exactly. Their dystopian government has a plan to address their needs, but as usual, it will have unintended consequences in Garth Davis’s FOE, which opens today in theaters.

Terrance is from the government and he is here to help. It turns out Junior has been selected to work on the international space station for a year. You wouldn’t think they need many dirt-farmers in space, but it is for some kind of rural poor representational quota. Of course, that means he must leave Hen alone for an entire year, in the over-populated world, where her only contact with other people comes from waiting on tables in a tiny little diner.

For her sake, Terrance will AI-clone Junior, but to do so properly, he must know the darkest corners of Junior’s mind and truly understand the state of their marriage. To that end, he moves in with the couple and constantly asking uncomfortable sexual questions, like James Spader in Sex, Lies, and Video Tape.

FOE could have been an effective Outer Limits-style thriller if it played up the dystopian paranoia and wasn’t set in the middle of acres and acres of wide-open scrub grass. However, Davis opted instead to make a Terrence Malick film. Although, in a weird way, all the hazy, sun-flared staring off into the horizon misdirects viewers from the surprise twist.

In fact, FOE addresses some big ideas in a surprisingly thoughtful manner. However, getting to that good stuff requires enduring the equivalent of cinematic anesthesia. If you’re not sufficiently caffeinated, it will likely put you out. To say the pacing is slow and deliberate would be diplomatic.

Sundance ’22: After Yang

Yang is a way more advanced AI than Alexa. When you ask him to turn off a light, he does it. In fact, he is truly a part of Jake and Kyra’s family, so when he goes on the fritz, it is very distressing for them—and especially so for their young adopted daughter Mika. They will have to prepare her to experience grief for the first time, while learning there was more to their “techno-sapien” “son” than they realized in Kogonada’s After Yang, which premiered (online) as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

When Kyra and Jake adopted Mika from China, so they also purchased Yang, a life-like AI-cyborg to serve as her big brother and help keep her connected to her Chinese culture. However, they bought him certified-refurbished from a licensed re-seller that apparently is no longer in business. Unfortunately, that means when he breaks down, he most likely can’t be repaired.

Suddenly, the two parents realize how much they had delegated their parenting responsibilities to Yang. They also must come to terms with their own sense of loss. However, the discovery of a cache of Yang’s saved memories leads Jake to the discovery of Yang’s secret relationship with a clone and his previous lives with other families, before they acquired him.

After Yang is a sensitive, character-driven science fiction story, in the tradition of films like Marjorie Prime that happily does not involve terminally ill people cloning themselves (as in Swan Song and half a dozen films before it). Kogonada’s adaptation of an Alexander Weinstein short story still has clones and it very definitely challenges viewers to reconsider what it means to be human. This near future world features humanity living and working together with its sentient creations in reasonable harmony, but the way people relate to AIs and clones is clearly still developing.

Kogonada de-emphasizes the flashy futuristic trappings, focusing instead on big ideas and big emotions (although self-driving cars are already a staple of the world). Indeed, the way he and actor Justin H. Min tease out intriguing new dimensions to Yang’s character is one of the most successful aspects of the film.

Swan Song, on Apple TV+

If science fiction predicts something enough times, does that mean it will truly come to pass? Should that be so, the terminally ill will eventually be able to replace themselves with healthy clones that carry their memories. We have already seen dying fathers come to terms with their clone successors in Guy Moshe’s LX 2048 and the “Tom” episode of Solos, so we can anticipate the mixed emotions Cameron Turner feels in Benjamin Cleary’s Swan Song, which premieres tomorrow on Apple TV+.

So, Turner is doing poorly. His outlook is fatal, but he hasn’t told his wife Poppy or their son anything. It is better that way, if he goes through with the radical treatment proposed by Dr. Scott. She will clone him in every respect, except for that obvious congenital defect, including his memories. However, they will need his help to verify all his old recollections synchronized acutely. That trip down memory lane will be painful, especially since it requires spending time with “Jack,” his replacement.

Despite the basic science fiction premise, Swan Song is more a film about death and letting go than the speculative implications of cloning. True, there are self-driving cars, but those are supposed to be coming right around the corner, finally. Fortunately, much of that drama is quite well done, especially the strange relationship that develops between Turner and his clone.

Mahershala Ali is very good in what is sort of, but not exactly a dual role, as Turner and his clone. Frankly, it is quite impressive how good he is playing opposite himself. He also has some nice sequences with Naomie Harris, as his wife Poppy, especially during memories of their first meetings. Harris does indeed have some effective moments, but her character’s complete lack of intuition somewhat strains credulity.

LX 2048: A Dystopian Future We Already Sort-of Recognize

It is a work-from-home future, for those who still work. Productivity has nose-dived, because most people are heavily medicated (on Lithium x) and largely live in a virtual entertainment network called “the Realm.” Adam Bird is literally last person who still physically commutes to his brick-and-mortar office. That adds unexpectedly eerie echoes to director-screenwriter-editor Guy Moshe’s LX 2048, which releases on-demand tomorrow.

Bird does things the hard way, much to the constant frustration of his estranged wife Reena. He is one of the few people who still does business during daylight hours, despite the heavy hazmat suits required by the sun’s heightened radiation. He is dying and so is his soon to be obsolete gaming company. As a result, he is quite concerned for his family’s future.

Thanks to their insurance, Bird will be replaced by a clone once his heart finally gives out. However, he is more than a little concerned his replacement will find himself unemployed. Of course, he is not too thrilled about by the prospect of a clone taking his place. Increasingly desperate, Bird tracks down Donald Stein a brilliant but disgraced inventor. He might be able to help, but not in the way Bird originally anticipated.

Moshe’s screenplay swings wildly back and forth from fascinating and inspired examinations of the nature of humanity to some rather awkwardly over-melodramatic family angst. It is like the best parts of The Matrix mixed with the worst parts of Kramer vs. Kramer. However, when Delroy Lindo enters the picture as Stein, all bets are off. He gives the film a blast of hip, snarky energy, while also expressing many of the film’s philosophical insights.

Presumably, Moshe conceived of LX 2048 long before Covid-19 was a glimmer in some Wuhan bat’s eye (or whatever), but it is impossible not to see parallels when Bird drives through empty freeways to reach his lonely office. Such scenes are eerily executed and they gain in resonance, since they are suddenly so much more believable. However, some of the drama involving Bird and his wife feels over-blown. Frankly, it seems hard to believe the scrupulously off-line Bird could get so caught up in a relationship with an online avatar.

The Reconstruction of William Zero: Cloning in Suburbia

Even though the technology is not there yet, most countries have laws on the books limiting the extent of human cloning. A geneticist with issues will demonstrate why such precautions are probably prudent. Uncertified copies will be made in Dan Bush’s The Reconstruction of William Zero (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in select cities.

When he wakes up in a suburban split-level suspiciously well-appointed with medical equipment, a man finds himself being cared for by someone claiming to be his fraternal twin. Since they are dead-ringers for each other, this should be believable. However, he would have to have been born yesterday not to be leery of the squirrely-acting fellow. Of course in his case, that is not so very far from the truth.

William Blakely was a geneticist at Next Corp, whose cloning team reached an impasse with their canine test subjects. Every proxy, as they call them, developed rapidly progressing brain tumors. Clearly, it is way too early to apply this technology to human beings. Yet, Blakely has apparently done just that. He had his motives, specifically the debilitating guilt stemming from the accidental death of his young son several years ago. As the new proxy’s artificially impressed memories kick in, he sets out to make amends for abandoning his grieving wife Jules, while his “brother” ominously shadowing him.

It is always cool when a filmmaker finds an inventive way to realize a science fiction film without a lot of effects. However, this requires a really grabby story and a mind-twisting concept. Films like Coherence, Frequencies, and the soon to be released Time Lapse have both, but Reconstruction is a little short in both departments. Granted, Bush’s first act is rather effectively disorienting, but once we all have our bearings, the film proceeds in a quite orderly manner to a disappointingly standard conclusion.

Bush opts to focus on the personal drama of a clone coming to terms with his clone-hood, which is an interesting strategy, but it does not provide much grist to turn your head inside out. As a result, it is a fine showcase for co-writer Conal Byrne, who essentially gets to play extreme versions of the same William character, all of whom/which he differentiates quite distinctly. Amy Seimetz also looks convincingly exhausted as the still hurting Jules, but her frequent co-star A.J. Bowen must bid too hasty an exit as a private investigator prowling around Blakely’s house.

A clone’s journey to self-awareness is a potentially fascinating subject, but Bush never manages to lower the dramatic boom with authority. It is the sort of film that will leave viewers wondering: “so, that’s really it then?” Its DIY scrappiness is commendable, but it needed more narrative development. Not the definitive cloning film, The Reconstruction of William Zero opens tomorrow (4/10) in Los Angeles, at the Arena Cinema.

World of Tomorrow (short): The Malaise of the Clones

In Kate Wilhelm’s Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang, generations of human cloning leads to a steep decline in creativity and problem solving skills. Side effects for late generation clones also includes a potential romantic attraction to inanimate objects, like rocks and fuel pumps in Don Hertzfeldt’s latest short film. After winning the Grand Jury Prize at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, Hertzfeldt’s thought-provoking World of Tomorrow (trailer here), launches today on Vimeo VOD.

Emily is playful, good-natured kid. The grown clone of her clone of her clone is not. She is a rather dreary, socially awkward killjoy. What went wrong? Clearly, the deterioration process took its toll. Unfortunately, it seems this has happened on a planetary scale. Humanity is pretty much done for—and it is hard to mourn for such drab and morose lot. Time-travelling Cloned Emily will explain it all to Emily Prime, but the girl is too young and healthy to get most of what she says. Instead, she appreciates the interstellar spectacle of their journey.

World is a smart and ironic excursion into the sort of eon-spanning science fiction H.G. Wells and Olaf Stapledon created and largely still dominate. Strangely enough, it also makes a fitting thematic companion to Hertzfeldt’s special Simpson’s intro, the longest and most conceptual couch gag in the show’s history. It is very funny at times, but it also poses some rather pointed questions about cloning and the nature of what it means to be human.

Despite their simplicity, Hertzfeldt’s figures are rather expressive, particularly the endearing Emily Prime, while his cosmic backgrounds are truly cinematic. Quite substantial as a seventeen minute short, World really combines distinctive animation with challenging science fiction filmmaking. Hopefully, Hertzfeldt will eventually integrate it into a larger feature as he did with It’s Such a Beautiful Day, because there should be considerably more material for him to explore in this apocalyptic cloned far future. Regardless, World of Tomorrow is recommended for all animation and science fiction fans when it releases today exclusively on Vimeo.