Children of Men (2006)

In sci-fi we’re used to highly intricate and dreamy spaceships taking us out of our real world and propelling us into a future defined by almost intangible technologies. And while that’s cool and all, the film that chooses to set its diegesis in the near future, emphasizing that reality is not so different than what’s seen on the screen, can be just as powerful, if not even more gripping than the alluring depiction of some 22nd century world. 

Just six years into the 21st century, Alfonso Cuarón released Children of Men, an edgy and innovatively filmed sci-fi action story where women have been infertile for the last 18 years. Devoid of any tech that feels far-fetched, the year that Cuarón’s film takes place in makes sense—2027. 

Often by steadicam and through a third-person perspective, we follow Theo Faron (Clive Owen), a British man and once-activist who, when kidnapped by old friend Julian (Julianne Moore), is tasked with getting the first new pregnant woman to a scientific research group, the Human Project. I highlight the way the cinematography is used to follow Theo because it makes scenes uniquely look like a video game cutscene. At the very beginning of the film Theo is in a coffee shop joined by a pack of strangers crowding around the Tv watching the news report which reveals the youngest man (Baby Diego) has died. Once he leaves the shop the camera follows him out onto the street, filming his back. Then Theo stops to light a cigarette, the camera in response to this moves to the other side of him to foreshadow the bomb that eventually explodes through the building he was just in. Gamers will find themselves confused on why there isn’t a controller in their hands as if Theo is their character, but for the common viewer, the film becomes just that much more immersive because we are right behind him. 

Among the more subtle details to notice is that when Theo is riding on the bus through the city, which mostly occurs in the film’s first act, every window on the bus has caging beyond the glass. While this choice simply serves to point out how dangerous public society has become, it also is part of the larger use of cages throughout the film. Back to sci-fi in space, props and situations mirror things we could see happening on earth. But why not just show that on Earth literally? Children of Men does that, and pretty frighteningly. The cages of immigrants and what are called ‘fugees’ (short for refugee) visually strike the viewer to show that even a strong country isn’t anywhere capable of dealing with a mass exodus. 

If it isn’t enough to hear it from me, 252 critic reviews on the popular site Rotten Tomatoes averaged out to a stellar 92% approval rating. Compared to its early and mid 2000s siblings in the trendy genre of sci-fi/dystopia, Children of Men separates itself from the pack without having a big household name. While still being acclaimed films, big budget movies such as I Am Legend (2007) and Minority Report (2002) rely on the likes of Tom Cruise and Will Smith. But when you watch Children of Men, the themes and real world implications of an infertile society are not overshadowed by money grabbing names. 

Alfonso Cuarón didn’t create an entirely realistic film. But by revolving a science fiction story around what would be a universally shared issue, in conjunction with masterful use of camera techniques throughout, he created a hard-to-swallow story—one necessary in understanding certain aspects of politics, government, and human progress today. 

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About the author


Dylan Shobe is an enthusiastic reviewer, cultural commentator, and Inquisitive college student with a passion for diving deep into the world of cinema, sports, and personal experiences. His writing explores the nuances of film, blending thoughtful analysis with personal anecdotes that provide a unique perspective on storytelling, music, and visual artistry. Dylan’s reflections often extend beyond the screen, drawing connections between entertainment, culture, and everyday life. Whether it’s dissecting a Quentin Tarantino soundtrack or recounting a sports moment, Dylan’s voice is both reflective and engaging, offering readers an introspective take on the media they love.