Aniara

I had... great expectations. The poem made a profound impression on me as a young boy when I read it the first time at around 12 or 13 years of age. The vision of the ship with its hapless passengers drifting endlessly across the infinite void, unable to change their ultimate destiny, descending into inevitable darkness struck a chord that still reverberates within me decades later.

Unfortunately the directors lost the ball. Instead of a much anticipated visual retelling of the epic poem we get bad acting and strange decisions on the cutting board. It seems to me the problem with the actors is that they seem to have been recruited more or less directly from the theatre, obviously a forum they are more comfortable with. The dialog is presented in a strange intonation making it stilted and unnatural. It feels false, recited rather than truly experienced. Neither are the characters given much room to become people in the eyes of the audience. Mostly they lack depth and feel more like paper cutouts, hastily put in place and given a token smear of storyline just enough to separate them from the others, rather than as real living people. Transitions between scenes ar... BLAM STOP BLACK SCREEN almost in the middle of a sentence and then a written text proclaiming the next chapter. So strange. So unnatural. So disruptive.

Yes, the movie had a limited budget which explains some of the shortcuts that had to be taken, but... 20 million actually is quite substantial sum as the story doesn't need much in the way of special effects or expensive sets, not really. The focus on the poem is not on the surroundings or the interior of the ship, but on the interactions between the people on board. No, lesbochock nudity and explicit orgies does not cover the vast rifts in the storytelling, though predicibly the attempt was made. The end result isn't bad, not really. It's worse, it's meh. Meh meh meh.

No, I am not a script writer, nor a director, in fact I have no experience with film making but... this could have been done better. So much better. So disappointed.

Toward the end of "Aniara" I kept thinking: thank god Bergman never made a science fiction movie. If you think Mother Earth is bleak, wait until you get lost in space, like the characters in "Aniara" do. And you truly do feel as though you're lost with them.

There are few ideas more appalling than drifting inexorably through the infinite blackness of space, not knowing if you're ever going to stop. "Aniara" provides a bleak portrait of people losing their minds as this goes on, resorting to cults, orgies and suicide.

It's a bit like "2001: A Space Odyssey" in reverse. That was about the development of the human species from pre-sapien species to our becoming one with the stars. "Aniara" begins with the stars, rejects oneness, and shows our utter devolution in space.

I say check it out.

"There is protection against almost everything, against fire and damage through storm and cold, but there is no protection against humanity," said Nobel Prize winner Harry Martinson, upon whose poem this film is based. On a spaceship accelerating to Mars from the ruined earth, people shop, eat and - with the help of virtual reality - dream as they always have done. When the ship veers off course, crew leaders try to keep the passengers from learning the truth. Power struggles ensue, fantasies and fears displace reality, and the ship starts to resemble (gasp!) a mini city on earth. Caught in the middle of the chaos and the factions is a cheerful woman who tries to make the best of the unfortunate circumstances. If only her companions would let her.

Poignant and relevant to contemporary culture, directors Kagerman and Lilja adapt the poem remarkably well to the screen. The film is wonderful for what it says about human nature. The salient moral is that technology is not fail safe, and only as good as the powers who wield it. The film is hampered by a skimpy budget, shaky camera work and bad transitions, but overall the acting is believable, and it is a fascinating glimpse at the human talent for avoiding reality, for better or worse, in whatever sphere we happen to occupy. World premiere seen at the 2018 Toronto International Film Festival.

This is a type of apocalyptic storytelling that is so beautiful. It doesn't hinge on false futurisms or morality - it is based on the sorrows that define our lives when we lose all hope. A slow burn that is so worth the indulgence.

One of those spot films that have an undeservedly low rating. Not just "well, it could have been higher," but precisely "why the hell is it so low?" For 2018, the graphics are probably not the best where it is needed, and the staging of the entire action of the film a little bit falls, but this is not Hollywood either. For Sweden, I think this is a very, very high level of the film. But this is so small thing... in comparison with the most important thing in that film: the story itself. It's great. Saturated with an extremely correct vision of what would happen to people if they were in a similar situation. And the end, although it was expected, but... The last scene was just very dense and strong.