Sunday, July 03, 2022

Aniara

Now we have fathomed what our space-ship is
--a tiny bubble in a glass of God.

 Aniara is a Swedish science fiction film based on a 1956 epic poem by Harry Martinson. I'd never heard of it, but it's a pretty big deal: It won a Nobel prize, and SF luminaries such as Theodore Sturgeon, Poul Anderson and Vernor Vinge were apparently fans.
 In any case, I'm glad they adapted it into a film. It's a bleakly existentialist (is there any other type of existentialist?) nightmare that enjoys nothing more than punching you in the emotional nuts repeatedly. I imagine the Swedes find it delightful.
 So, what is it about?


 Aniara is a Swedish- oh, wait, I've already said that. Ahem. Aniara is a spaceship; A floating city that ferries humans between a dying earth and colonies in Mars. It's more than a little bit like a giant cruise liner: Its passengers can expect amenities, shopping malls, a large auditorium, pools and a MIMA room, among other things.
 What's MIMA? I'm glad you asked! It's a sort of holodeck analogue room where passengers can 'hook up' and revisit places from their memories as vivid illusions. It's important for the movie in several ways, and I'll get back to it later.
 Anyhow. The mission to mars soon goes wrong when the ship is forced to change course after an encounter with some space debris. Aniara, and all the souls aboard, are sent hurtling out of the solar system and into the void.... with no hope of going back or of being rescued.
 People turn to MIMA at first, and then when that breaks, to other, more bizarre ways to pass the time. This by the way includes cultish orgies that are pretty graphic and not very sexy.

 The film follows the ship's Mimarobe -the MIMA operator- (Emelie Garbers) from an at-first unimportant role (MIMA only becomes popular once things spiral out of control) to transitioning to other roles once her job is obsolete. She has a front row to a few important events aboard the ship, falls in love and has a child, and in general tries to lead a good life and present a brave face in the face of heartbreak and an ultimately futile existence. Hmmm.
 While she may be the point of view character, the real heart of the movie is the Astronomer (Anneli Martini). She is introduced earnestly saying she doesn't care that everyone on earth is dying: "I've never been very impressed by people," she quips. The bubble quote at the start of this post is hers as well, trying to explain just how insignificant the Aniara is to the universe.
 The Astronomer is the one that constantly finds fault with the lies other people try to find comfort in, the one who is brutally realistic about their fate. No prizes awarded for guessing what that will get her, and no prizes awarded for guessing whether she's right or not.

 While the budget is obviously not huge, the designs are good (loved the space elevator with advertisements along the bottom!), the cinematography solid and almost stately, and the actors are uniformly excellent. 
 The science part of the genre equation itself is a little suspect - the technologies involved are extremely handwavy, entropy doesn't seem to be as active as you'd expect given some of the time periods involved, and the ship does go through a weird shiny pink cloud at one point; very Star Trek. But the sci-fi ethos is very much present and accounted for; this is ruthless, unflinching speculation, without the concessions you might expect from something meant as entertainment. It's a bit ponderous but there are enough events to keep the forward momentum going. And maybe a little pitch-black humor to leaven things up a little, if you squint... right up until the bold gallows humor of the final chapter's title card.

 Turns out the film isn't very impressed by people, either.

No comments: