Every year brings us the “thinking man’s sci-fi”, a provocative genre piece usually big on it’s complexity and ideology; already this year, we’ve had Claire Denis’ High Life and now Aniara joins its ranks – a film about the vast emptiness of space.
Aniara is a spaceship carrying settlers from a ruined-Earth to seek refuge on Mars; a paradise resort of sorts, it’s full of amenities to allow the three-week trip to be one of leisure and luxury. However, when it veers off-course, panic and chaos arises as the future of the spacecraft – and those aboard – begins to look uncertain. One member in particular, Mimaroben (Emelie Jonsson) – who runs the MIMA, a high-tech form of therapy for the passengers – finds her life going awry once disaster strikes.
From the opening shots showing the grand Aniara’s tininess in the black of space, it’s clear what this film is about. It’s a nihilistic, existential trip down the space-wormhole that begs the age-old adage of: what is our place in the world? Based on a Swedish poem, directors Hugo Lilja and Pella Kagerman opt to take a very muted, unconventional approach to the story; it’s a slow-burner that takes a minimalistic approach (despite a clearly big budget and lavish production design/visuals) and focuses on character more than anything else. The dreaded doom and chaos unfolds quietly and subtly, which will turn away those expecting big-budget, conventional fare from their space-operas. But the esoteric nature of the film is part of its appeal – a pensive character study first, sci-fi thereafter.
The way the narrative unfolds patiently, almost aimless in its structure, slowly building the bleakness and craziness until it crescendos into quite the trip within the final half hour, is utterly enthralling; the writing is flinty and real and the film accurately depicts the madness that would ensue should something like this happen. Lilja and Kagerman create such genuine world that feels so harrowing because of just how authentic and tactile it feels; by the end of the run time, the bleakness of the film is perhaps a little much – there’s very little optimism within the 105-minute run time – and the pacing can feel a little uneven as a result. But the precision of the execution tools Aniara to be a provocative, thoughtful new take on the “we are ultimately nothing but a spec” ideology we’ve seen countless sci-fi films tackle. It’s a stunningly acted, exquisitely shot and handsome piece but it’s compelling and dreadful in the best way possible – the kind of film that will leave you feeling nihilistic and lingering on the journey for long after it’s over.
Aniara was reviewed at the 2019 EIFF. ANIARA is released in cinemas and On Demand from 30th August.
