Last and First Men - 2020 - dir. Jóhann Jóhannsson - currently streaming on Shudder in the US, possibly elsewhere.
It’s not often you see something wholly unexpected. I had zero knowledge of the existence of this film. The summary said the cast included Tilda Swinton and it was only 72 minutes long. SOLD.
I expected a shortish, possibly arty sci-fi piece, given the scant summary and Swinton’s presence. What I did NOT expect was an incredibly moving, meditative (I find myself using that word a lot, lately. hmm) experience that’s far closer to Koyaanisqatsi than any sort of horror film.
The film is based on a cult 1930’s novel of the same name by Olaf Stapledon. It is a message sent back to us, the first race of men, through time, from the last race of men, two billion years in the future, from their settlement on Neptune. It details the events between our time an theirs, and their ultimate fate. And that’s it. In terms of ‘plot’, nothing actually happens in the film. The message itself is moving and tragic and hopeful. For having been written pre WWII, much about it seems extremely modern and prescient.
But the real strength of this piece lies in its form. There is no human presence in the film. Swinton reads (abridged) passages of the book in voiceover, and the screen is filled with stunning B&W 16mm photography of Yugoslavian WWII memorial monuments. . The scale of these monuments is often unclear, but some are as big as buildings. They consist of a variety of brutalist shapes that simultaneously evoke a sort of eastern-bloc retrofuturism and ancient stone carvings, like The Sphynx or the Easter Island heads. But this is so perfectly, expertly edited that extended passages pass wordlessly and remain completely compelling. Essentially, the film functions as a ‘visual’, very abridged audiobook. And as odd as that sounds, I found it totally engrossing.
And then there’s the music. Jóhannsson, who died in 2018, was known primarily as a composer. Among others, he did the absolutely haunting scores for Arrival starring Amy Adams, and Mandy, with a fantastic performance by Nic Cage. His work here is just as great. More the pity that this was his only feature as a director.
Again, this probably isn’t for everyone. But for those to whom the phrase “visual tone poem” is not an instance turnoff, this is just a FANTASTIC find. I’m so glad Shudder brings these odd ‘horror-adjacent’ works to wider public notice. Right along with Skinamarink and last years experimental stop motion feature The Wolf House, they’re really finding some genuine works of art to lay in among all the (beloved) 80’s trash and drive-in-style content they’re most known for. It’s kind of impressive, really.
