Film Review: MEN, WOMEN & CHILDREN

How is it that we now live in a world where we can make contact without ever touching? How it is that we can interact, torment, and embrace others without ever having to say a word? Jason Reitman's (Juno, Up In The Air) latest feature, Men, Women & Children explores what makes this possible by delving into the extremes and possibilities of the internet. No longer a purely functional service, the internet has become a removed yet entirely absorbing ecosystem that now coexists alongside reality. Reitman successfully considers this crux of the modern day: where displaying more and more of our identities online is leaving what is left in our bodies in a fragile position. How does the internet affect personal development and relationships when it becomes the ultimate mediator that filters into every facet of our lives?   

An array of shocking and unusual narratives converge as the film presents us with a selection of characters whose stories all intertwine, networked like the internet itself. Reitman's film takes place from a distanced perspective, beginning interestingly in outer space whilst a omnipresent narrator observes the human race's new and strange technological behaviour as David Attenborough would of a colonised species, where something very odd has interfered with the direction of our evolution. This allows the viewer to become removed as heavy issues such as infidelity, eating disorders, porn and privacy are addressed. But above all, the viewer begins to notice how the uncontrollable acceleration of the internet can harbour obsession.

The tone of the film is definitely far heavier than Reitman's much-loved Juno, taking away the quirky, quick-witted characters in exchange for a spread of primarily unlikable and confused personalities. Men, Women & Children shifts Juno's quaint and humorous dialogue into a film that is largely silent where on-screen chat boxes and webpage screenshots replace the spoken word. To match the growing passivity of our internet age, Reitman emphasises what is unsaid rather than what is said, drawing our attention to visuals and action. The majority of the film presents the characters contemplating in front of screens, lenses and buttons and like them; we are encouraged to watch tentatively as we are forced to speculate their decisions. Intentions are depicted as extremely fluid and ambiguous in the film which lends itself to multiple interpretations, reflecting the often confusing and easily misunderstood nature of online communication.

Although the passive tone that permeates throughout the film matches its internet theme, the acting and pace did fall victim to bouts of roboticism. However, as the film neared the ending, its heart returned - albeit in a slight trickle – as the repercussions of internet obsession finally come crashing into the real world and the characters emotionally experience the consequences.

"Like it or not, for now, the Earth is where we make our stand."

As the audience watches a screen showing people looking at screens, it is difficult not to become unnerved. I felt that Reitman's portrayal of the effects of the internet were overly hyperbolic at times which made certain storylines unbelievable and extremely pessimistic. However, I believe that the film works far better if the exaggeration is considered as intentional, where every possible worst scenario and escalation is situated in one large tangle of melancholia, as this succeeds in truly shocking us into seeing how affected we have become.

Men, Women & Children is equal parts disturbing and poignant and left me with a feeling I couldn't quite place. Unlike Reitman's earlier work, the film takes on an oppressive hopelessness that criticises the modern lifestyle. Nonetheless, it implores its audience to not only question their actions online, but their interactions as a whole and rethink human complexity. As referenced in the film, I feel that Carl Sagan's description of the human condition accurately encapsulates the experience of this film: "Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."