I had read many reviews of the film prior, all of them commenting on the grim, relentless bleakness inherent. It's to be expected though, when the film's subject is surviving a post-apocalyptic world where hope hangs on a thread.
Before I left work for the cinema, I mentioned to a colleague that I was going to see it. She looked at me in alarm.
Oh no.
What do you mean, Oh No?
You'll need a drink when you get out, she replied. Actually maybe best to have one before you go in too.
All this wonderful preamble fully situated me to come out of the film and slit my wrists.
I went nonetheless.
Afterwards I did not kill myself but instead went for pizza with my friend who had come with me. We went in a slightly stunned state, as if we had been bludgeoned by a mallet, but in a good way.
The film was bleak and grim and relentless. It was also familiar, tender and visionary. At least for me.
I sat rivetted throughout. I didn't find it plodding or angstful. The images and emotions onscreen seemed universal. Questions raised in the film were my own and that of my generation and the ones to follow. Questions about survival, morality, humanity, hope and love.
It was compelling and I can't get it out of my head.
