There is an unending charm to Aniara, despite its agonizing bleakness. This is a film that broke through: a Swedish language production with relatively small budget tackling one of the larger scale sci-fi landscapes, conceptually at least: a veritable small city housed on a spaceship heading to Mars. Occasionally, the set design and general look feels like a TV show, and still I found nearly every frame phenomenal. That it is based on a 1956 Swedish poem of the same name is all the more fitting. Small ideas made big and then, again, in the end, very small. Where it bites from preexisting, legendary works of the genre, it does so nimbly. It's hard not to see the parallels between the decay and collapse of MIMA and HAL 9000, however the disintegration of the former is quick, subverting expectations.
While this may be billed as a story about the dangers of overconsumption I saw it broadly as something much deeper, an allegory on faith. In fact, there seems to be multiple thematic elements at play, from the idea of the captain/pilot/driver as fatalist, to the inherent lie of freewill. It's a wonderfully paced film, utilizing its time jumps superbly. When it gets dark--and it gets DARK--it feels right. You'll leave this film feeling like there's no time like the present. An inspiring work.
While this may be billed as a story about the dangers of overconsumption I saw it broadly as something much deeper, an allegory on faith. In fact, there seems to be multiple thematic elements at play, from the idea of the captain/pilot/driver as fatalist, to the inherent lie of freewill. It's a wonderfully paced film, utilizing its time jumps superbly. When it gets dark--and it gets DARK--it feels right. You'll leave this film feeling like there's no time like the present. An inspiring work.
