Short Take: Children of Men

“Very odd what happens in a world without children’s voices.” A character says this about midway through director Alfonso Cuarón’s spectacularly realized dystopian thriller Children of Men. What happens is the world goes mad. The film is set in the England of 2027, 18 years after the last infant has been born. Much of the planet has been devastated by war, and England is one of the few places that still maintains some level of peace and order. As a result, it’s become a destination for refugees from around the world. The country's response is draconian. It is now more or less under martial law, and the chief responsibility of the ubiquitous soldiers is to round up the never-ending flood of immigrants. Pockets of the citizenry have gravitated to the false hopes of revolutionary groups and religious cults. Most, though, are like the film’s protagonist, Theo Faron (Clive Owen): just blankly going through the motions of jobs that don’t seem to matter anymore. But one day Theo’s ex-wife (Julianne Moore) turns up seeking his help in getting a transit visa to the seashore. Before long, he’s caught up in an effort to get the first pregnant woman in 18 years (Clare Hope-Ashitey) to safety outside the country. This context is the stage for one of the most gripping adventure films ever made. Cuarón’s vision of the future is bleak, but the details are so suggestively presented that one always wants to know more about the world he presents. The key action set pieces, particularly the effort to locate the young mother in a besieged seaside town, are so breathtaking they leave one in awe. Owen’s role--the embittered cynic who becomes a heroic man of action--is a bit of a cliché, but he plays it with conviction, nuance, and considerable charisma. Emmanuel Lubezki provided the bravura cinematography. The extraordinarily detailed production design and set decoration are by Jim Clay, Geoffrey Kirkland, and Jennifer Williams. The script, based loosely on the novel by P. D. James, is credited to Cuarón, Timothy J. Sexton, David Arata, Mark Fergus, and Hawk Ostby.

Short Take: Pan's Labyrinth

Pan's Labyrinth, a dark-toned fantasy picture written and directed by Guillermo del Toro, is set in Spain a few years after the country's civil war. A young girl (Ivana Baquero) goes to live with her mother (Ariadna Gil) and stepfather (Sergi López) at a military outpost in the Spanish countryside. The stepfather commands a unit charged with rooting out resistance fighters in the nearby mountains. The girl is unhappy. Her mother is pregnant, and her stepfather takes no interest in her. One night, an insect fairy takes the girl to meet the Faun, who tells her she is the reincarnation of Princess Moanna of the Underground Realm. He gives her three tasks to complete. If she succeeds, she can return to the fantasy kingdom where she lived in her previous life. The film has the makings of a children's story, and the imagery is as magical as has ever been seen in movies. But it is not for kids. Del Toro clearly intends the film as a fairy tale for adults, and it is a dark, complex allegory of the conflict between authority and independence. The climactic scenes are both horrifically violent and terrifyingly beautiful. The film is just gorgeously realized, both in terms of visual design and dramatic intensity. It is certainly among the greatest fantasy films ever made. The masterful cinematography is by Guillermo Navarro.

Short Take: Casino Royale

This review was originally published on Pol Culture.

The James Bond franchise has traditionally just replaced one leading actor with another. With Casino Royale (2006), the 21st film in the series, there was not only a new star (Daniel Craig), but also a complete reboot of the character. This adaptation of Ian Fleming’s inaugural 1953 Bond novel gives the viewer a more inexperienced Bond, a grittier tone, and far less fanciful trappings. (The famous Bond spy gadgetry, for instance, is all but gone.) The story is fast-paced espionage-adventure pulp, complete with Third-World terrorists, corrupt financiers, and glamorous international locations. The dramatic hook, though, is the treatment of the Bond character. The film begins as he is promoted to the elite of British secret-service field agents, and this new Bond is easily the most ruthless film version of the character to date. He’s a brutal, devious, and all but completely hardened killer. The tension in him comes from his awareness that the violence he traffics in is costing him his soul. His sympathetic side is brought out by his relationship with the British treasury accountant (Eva Green) assigned to oversee him in the high-stakes poker competition that is the story’s centerpiece. The film, unlike its predecessors, is not the least bit nonchalant about violence; the most eloquent moment is when Bond comforts the accountant in her shock from helping him kill an attacker. The picture also finds a tragic irony in his concluding victory; the humane aspects of him are now completely burned away. Martin Campbell, the director, does a superb job with both the character drama and the action setpieces. The latter are extraordinarily well-executed, with the first half alone providing a daredevil chase through a construction site, and an elaborate sequence involving the foiling of a plot to destroy a luxury jet. As for Daniel Craig, he could not embody this conception of Bond better. Everything about him says thug, but he also makes the viewer feel the tenderness that’s slipping away. But the standout performer is Judi Dench, who delivers a droll turn as "M," the secret service’s head officer. The screenplay is credited to Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, and Paul Haggis. The excellent cinematography, with gorgeous location work in Italy and the Bahamas, is by Phil Meheux.