From its
metaphoric title to its powerful end, Director Michael Bay’s The Island had me fully engaged. Told in
the genuine style of great science fiction commentary by screenwriters Caspian
Tredwell-Owen, Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci (in 2005), The Island reflects the escape-from dystopia films of the 1960s and
70s such as Fahrenheit 451, THX 1138, and Logan’s Run. This elegant story examines a full range of human
foibles—consumerist greed, racism, fascism and isolationism—through a premise
that is as frightening as it is possible.
In
the year 2019, Lincoln Six Echo (Ewan McGregor) and Jordan Two Delta (Scarlett
Johansson) live in an isolated community where behavior is governed by a set of
strict rules. This includes the avoidance of too close contact. Everything is
the same; residents all wear the same white uniform and carry out simple duties.
They’ve been told that the outside world is too contaminated for human life
with the exception of one island. Everyone lives for the weekly lottery, where
the winner gets to leave the compound to live on the island.
It’s
a simple and banal existence. We glimpse a scene of adults reading Dick and Jane out loud. When in the
opening scene Lincoln Six Echo finds a shoe missing in his provided wardrobe,
this becomes a major focus of his day (when greeted by a colleague with, “How
are you doing?” he responds with, “I’m missing a shoe.”)
Lincoln
can’t accept this mundane existence. In an interview with Dr. Merrick (Sean
Bean), the scientist who runs the compound, Lincoln naively unleashes a tirade
of items that frustrate him, like why everyone wears white, who determined tofu
Tuesday, and then ends with: “I want to know answers and I wish there was more
than just waiting to go to the island.” He also suffers from dreams about a
life he doesn’t understand—they are, in fact, memories of his ‘sponsor’, the
original man (Tom Lincoln) that he is a copy of. When he discovers a moth and follows it, he
stumbles into the hidden part of the compound. There he witnesses what really
happens to “lottery winners”: they are killed and used for organ harvesting,
surrogate motherhood, etc. for each one’s sponsor.
Lincoln
is just an insurance policy. An ‘agnate’ according to Dr. Merrick, who
describes them as in a “persistent vegetative state that never achieves
consciousness” to clients, willing to pay millions of dollars for a second
chance at life—and blithely unaware that ‘agnates’ are alive and fully formed
with thoughts and feelings like them.
When
Lincoln learns the truth, and knowing that Jordan just “won” the lottery, he
convinces her to escape with him. Merrick hires Albert Laurent (Djimon Hounsou),
a mercenary and former GIGN veteran, to find and dispatch them.
The Island received mixed reviews from
critics, with a 40% “Rotten” rating,
based on 185 reviews. Variety’s
Justin Chang called the film an “exercise in sensory overkill.” Salon’s Stephanie Zacharek lamented that
when the film got really interesting, Bay seemed to think he needed “to throw
in a car crash or round of gunfire to keep our attention.” If these critics
found fault with this elegant action-thriller, I hate to see what they make of
90% of the so-called SF movies out there today. Unlike them, The Island provides a refreshing
meaningful face to action-adventure.
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| Sean Bean as Dr. Merrick |
Roger Ebert suggested that The Island missed the opportunity “to do
what the best science fiction does, and use the future as a way to critique the
present.” Again, I disagree. The Island does what the best science fiction does
well: it examines the nature of our humanity through the choices we make in
adversity within a future world and premise that provides great opportunity for
abuse.
The theme of this parable is carried
evocatively by Steve Jablonsky’s score. Like a swelling tide it sweeps us on a
journey to some distant shore. From the melodic strings and yearning chorus, the
music builds to a powerful conclusion at the film’s end, when it lifts us to
victory, resonating with our divine evolution. I was particularly struck by the
timing of the strings and chorus with the appearance of Albert Laurent, walking
among those he had just liberated. It is a pivotal and powerful moment that
escalates into a resonating vibration of liberty and victory as his eyes meet
briefly with Lincoln and Jordan, reunited, and he smiles—for the first time. A beautiful
smile of inner joy. It is the smile of a man who has “come home” and is finally
free.
Laurent’s subplot is particularly compelling and
carries one of the principle elements of the film. In
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| Djimon Housou as Albert Laurent |
some ways, Laurent
represents you and me, caught up in our societal ‘duties’, seduced by
self-serving entrapments only to awaken to a path of courageous compassion for
all of humanity. Laurent’s journey from jaded mercenary to liberating hero
begins when he notices Jordan’s skin branding and, recognizing a connection
with her plight, helps her free the mass of ‘defective’ lottery winners about
to be incinerated. We learn that his father had been killed as a rebel and Laurent
was ‘branded’ as less than human. So, there he walks, brilliantly black among
the white-clad ‘agnates’ who slide down the hill after emerging from the underground
bunker in which they were incarcerated.
This motion picture is ultimately about finding
dignity in the face of adversity and ridicule. It is about confronting the
bully and gaining victory over one’s own barriers of fear and doubt toward
compassion. It is about the power of love and connection with humanity. It is
about retribution and finding one’s true path through the knowledge that we are
all one.
“I am
you; you are me. You are the waves; I am the ocean. Know this and be free, be
divine.” Sri Sathya Sai Baba
Nina Munteanu is an
ecologist and internationally published author of novels, short stories and
essays. She coaches writers and teaches writing at George Brown College and the
University of Toronto. For more about Nina’s coaching & workshops visit www.ninamunteanu.me. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for more about her writing.
