AniaraHumanity is volatile, easily given to excess and self-destruction. At times, it seems as though the only remedies are the creature comforts we embrace...our escape from reality, a means to get through each day. But when we flee our world--ourselves--what does that say about human nature? Aniara is a science fiction disaster movie adapted from the epic poem of the same name by Harry Martinson. (The poem has the distinction of being the only work of science fiction to have won the Nobel Prize for Literature.) After the Earth has fallen to natural disasters, humans flee aboard a space-faring cruise ship bound for a new home on Mars, only to find themselves indeterminately routed off course and into deep space.
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I have a soft spot for science fiction movies that defy the expectations established by hits like Alien and Star Wars, needing some kind of enemy to fight among the stars; Aniara instead points the finger at humanity being its own worst enemy. Aniara is a Swedish-Danish production, written and directed for the screen by Pella Kågerman and Hugo Lilja. Given the reputation of its source material, there must have been a sense of passion--and, perhaps, some national pride, as Martinson was Swedish--in its crafting. The poem's legacy is felt elsewhere, and not just in film. (For example, an extrasolar planet was recently named "Isagel", after a character from the poem, played in this movie by Bianca Cruzeiro.) Although I do not have the benefit of having read the poem for comparison, the film bears many of the characteristics of a disaster movie, like the Airport series from the Seventies. The passengers and crew aboard the starship--also named Aniara--travelling to Mars are expecting a three-week voyage. The ship is essentially a mega-cruise ship, replete with shopping, restaurants, swimming pools, and all manner of consumer distraction meant to occupy their time. Despite an outward look at the Earth behind them, which is overcome by hurricanes, humanity still appears overly concerned with numbing the pain of losing their celestial home by playing video games and buying things. It speaks to that contemporary neurosis that afflicts so many of us in the "first world": that the horrors of earthquakes, cyclones, wars, and crumbling nations always seems to happen "over there". It isn't until we're in the thick of it firsthand that the terror becomes real. That's exactly what happens when the Aniara is forced to eject all of its fuel following a breach of its nuclear-powered hull. What this means is that the ship can no longer steer, and cannot reach Mars. Captain Chefone (Arvin Kananian) declares that the ship should be able to rebound around a celestial body, eventually reaching Mars in about two years. But he--and other intelligent astronomers aboard the Aniara--know this to be a lie, deliberately crafted to keep the peace...the first of many lies to come.
The protagonist of Aniara is a woman who runs a sophisticated virtual reality atrium aboard the ship. She is referred to as the "Mimarobe" (Emelie Garbers), because the reality simulation is called "Mima". She is a mousy woman who escapes into the false realities crafted by Mima to flee the anxieties that grip her, such as her infatuation with Isagel, stemming from a sideways glance they shared on an elevator ride. She occupies a cabin with a cynical astronomer (Anneli Martini), who despite being the ebullient face of the welcome video for the passengers, is ultimately the one who informs the Mimarobe of the truth of their dire fate. After the accident, the Mimarobe becomes increasingly overwhelmed in her work, as ever more passengers come to her small stage to flee the discomfort of being displaced from their original chartered path. What's interesting here is that it's unclear as to whether any of them truly doubt the captain's estimate for their delay; they simply want to pass the time in as comfortable of a way as possible, allowing life to transpire as they wait. Without giving too much away, obviously this isn't a sustainable practice, and the people eventually turn on the Mimarobe just as they clamored to her and Mima for comfort when things go wrong. Aniara isn't subtle about its negative outlook on humanity when we are pushed to extremes. For instance, it isn't long until the food stocks in the restaurants are depleted, leaving all aboard dependent on the health of the ship's algae stores for their survival, both for food and oxygen. But even this isn't enough to galvanize the people aboard on their journey into the unknown. Instead, virtually everyone--including the Mimarobe--allows themselves to degenerate into depravity and excess. Cults form as a justification for orgies. The captain and crew become a totalitarian regime, using force too readily to keep order. Through it all, the film's message is that what we know to be "civilization" is a thin veneer, easily scraped away once a crisis looms. (One has but to look at how deplorably many people reacted at the onset of COVID-19 for an example of this. Note that this film preceded the pandemic.)
Many moviegoers might expect that this crumbling of society would plant the Mimarobe in the role of a rebel leader or hero. Not so, as she is all too weak-willed to stand up to Chefone, even supporting him at times that it would otherwise be morally reprehensible to do so. I believe that this comes from her own refusal to let go of the trappings of the past, just as it is with virtually everyone aboard the Aniara. Because they have suckled too long at the proverbial teat of complacency and those "creature comforts" we hold so dear in society, they are incapable of surviving this challenge. They're too fixated on aspects of life that should have since become inconsequential. Aniara wants to be a thrilling disaster movie in space and a meditation on the fallibility of humanity's survival instincts, but it also interjects elements supposedly intended to speak to the state of things in this future that never get adequately explained. For example, there are a few people early on who have substantial burns on their face. Perhaps it was glossed over too readily, but the implication is that they were exposed to some kind of devastating fire back on Earth, and now carry the evidence of that disaster on their skin forevermore. There are also numerous technical oddities that don't make sense, such as an elevator ascending into orbit, or how the Aniara manages to generate electricity despite having no fuel, or why there was no backup plan for their fuel system in the first place, and so on. Furthermore, there is a comment that the Mimarobe makes to a panicked passenger about how Mars is no better than Earth, where only a small tulip engineered to survive the cold can thrive. Is this true? If so, what hope did the passengers of the Aniara have in fleeing Earth for a better life? Some of these details--along with numerous images of an Earth before the ecological devastation--speak to attitudes about climate change. This imbues the movie with a cautionary message that it is not too late to reverse humanity's contributions to such an apocalyptic vision of the futurefor our planet. And yet, despite all of the warning signs, people persist in falling back into the trappings of the past, forever caught in a doomed loop of self-destruction. What a sad vision of the future and us.
Recommended for: Fans of a meditative science fiction disaster film that raises questions about our species' ability to both be stewards of the Earth as well as our ability to overcome an existential calamity. Aniara isn't always a consistent movie, but then again, neither is society. It is a bit of a pity that it seems like the movie too often gets distracted from itself, and is a bit overloaded with inconsequential scenes. Or maybe this is itself a commentary on just how people are also a little too quick to embrace trivialities rather than deal with a major threat staring them right in the face.
The protagonist of Aniara is a woman who runs a sophisticated virtual reality atrium aboard the ship. She is referred to as the "Mimarobe" (Emelie Garbers), because the reality simulation is called "Mima". She is a mousy woman who escapes into the false realities crafted by Mima to flee the anxieties that grip her, such as her infatuation with Isagel, stemming from a sideways glance they shared on an elevator ride. She occupies a cabin with a cynical astronomer (Anneli Martini), who despite being the ebullient face of the welcome video for the passengers, is ultimately the one who informs the Mimarobe of the truth of their dire fate. After the accident, the Mimarobe becomes increasingly overwhelmed in her work, as ever more passengers come to her small stage to flee the discomfort of being displaced from their original chartered path. What's interesting here is that it's unclear as to whether any of them truly doubt the captain's estimate for their delay; they simply want to pass the time in as comfortable of a way as possible, allowing life to transpire as they wait. Without giving too much away, obviously this isn't a sustainable practice, and the people eventually turn on the Mimarobe just as they clamored to her and Mima for comfort when things go wrong. Aniara isn't subtle about its negative outlook on humanity when we are pushed to extremes. For instance, it isn't long until the food stocks in the restaurants are depleted, leaving all aboard dependent on the health of the ship's algae stores for their survival, both for food and oxygen. But even this isn't enough to galvanize the people aboard on their journey into the unknown. Instead, virtually everyone--including the Mimarobe--allows themselves to degenerate into depravity and excess. Cults form as a justification for orgies. The captain and crew become a totalitarian regime, using force too readily to keep order. Through it all, the film's message is that what we know to be "civilization" is a thin veneer, easily scraped away once a crisis looms. (One has but to look at how deplorably many people reacted at the onset of COVID-19 for an example of this. Note that this film preceded the pandemic.)
Many moviegoers might expect that this crumbling of society would plant the Mimarobe in the role of a rebel leader or hero. Not so, as she is all too weak-willed to stand up to Chefone, even supporting him at times that it would otherwise be morally reprehensible to do so. I believe that this comes from her own refusal to let go of the trappings of the past, just as it is with virtually everyone aboard the Aniara. Because they have suckled too long at the proverbial teat of complacency and those "creature comforts" we hold so dear in society, they are incapable of surviving this challenge. They're too fixated on aspects of life that should have since become inconsequential. Aniara wants to be a thrilling disaster movie in space and a meditation on the fallibility of humanity's survival instincts, but it also interjects elements supposedly intended to speak to the state of things in this future that never get adequately explained. For example, there are a few people early on who have substantial burns on their face. Perhaps it was glossed over too readily, but the implication is that they were exposed to some kind of devastating fire back on Earth, and now carry the evidence of that disaster on their skin forevermore. There are also numerous technical oddities that don't make sense, such as an elevator ascending into orbit, or how the Aniara manages to generate electricity despite having no fuel, or why there was no backup plan for their fuel system in the first place, and so on. Furthermore, there is a comment that the Mimarobe makes to a panicked passenger about how Mars is no better than Earth, where only a small tulip engineered to survive the cold can thrive. Is this true? If so, what hope did the passengers of the Aniara have in fleeing Earth for a better life? Some of these details--along with numerous images of an Earth before the ecological devastation--speak to attitudes about climate change. This imbues the movie with a cautionary message that it is not too late to reverse humanity's contributions to such an apocalyptic vision of the futurefor our planet. And yet, despite all of the warning signs, people persist in falling back into the trappings of the past, forever caught in a doomed loop of self-destruction. What a sad vision of the future and us.
Recommended for: Fans of a meditative science fiction disaster film that raises questions about our species' ability to both be stewards of the Earth as well as our ability to overcome an existential calamity. Aniara isn't always a consistent movie, but then again, neither is society. It is a bit of a pity that it seems like the movie too often gets distracted from itself, and is a bit overloaded with inconsequential scenes. Or maybe this is itself a commentary on just how people are also a little too quick to embrace trivialities rather than deal with a major threat staring them right in the face.