Posted October 18, 2011 by Alex Moss Editor in Films
 
 

The Future


Performance artist and filmmaker Miranda July may have her own unique style when it comes to making films though however unique or off-centre her comedy may be, the overall result of her work in a film such as The Future cannot be otherwise expressed than utterly baffling. And infuriating. And boring.

Performance
artist and filmmaker Miranda July may have her own unique style when it comes
to making films though however unique or off-centre her comedy may be, the
overall result of her work in a film such as The Future cannot be otherwise
expressed than utterly baffling. And infuriating. And boring.

Set around a couple in their mid-30s whose
relationship is in turmoil, their plan to adopt a stray cat changes their
entire perspective on life and alters their relationship forever. A tale of
anxiety and the pressures of maturation, The Future is, amongst all the
bizarreness and eccentricities, a film about growing up.

Despite the strange attempted surrogacy of
a stray cat in a vain attempt to experience parenthood, both July’s character
Sophie and Hamish Linklater’s Jason
are, despite their age, immensely immature. Neither of them seem to do much in
the way of employment, Jason sits at home providing IT solutions and Sophie
limply teaches dance classes to young children, and are in no way connected
with the real world. Conversations between the two consist of mumbling and
incoherent fodder about how life is practically over for them at the ripe old
age of 35. In retaliation to their perceived life slump, Sophie and Jason quit
their jobs in favour of pursuing what they really want to do with their lives.

The problem with the film lies in the
complete unlikeability of Sophie and Jason. So childish and detached from any
form of maturity, neither of them present any form of relatable problem or
dilemma. Everyone at some point suffers from anxiety about what the future
holds, most deal with it, others simply mumble. Sophie and Jason are mumblers.

Amongst the barren humour is a quite
frankly absurd narration by the couple’s adopted cat (For those who have seen Beginners, by director and July’s
husband Mike Mills, you will notice the a similarly talking
animal makes an appearance for comedic effect. The fun that household must have
when having existential debating about cats and dogs). If quirkiness is the new
definition of comedy, then it is unfamiliar because The Future is remarkably
humourless.

After an hour or so of the aforementioned
nonsensical mumbling, the plot takes a turn into the dream-like bizarre of a
film such as Eternal Sunshine of a
Spotless Mind
, but is hardly a match for Michel Gondry’s classic. If this is what the future holds for
comedy, it’s not one that’s particularly bright.


Alex Moss Editor

 
Alex Moss’ obsession with film began the moment he witnessed the Alien burst forth from John Hurt’s stomach. It was perhaps ill-advised to witness this aged 6 but much like the beast within Hurt, he became infected by a parasite called ‘Movies’. Rarely away from his computer or a big screen, as he muses on Cinematic Deities, Alex is “more machine now than man. His mind is twisted and evil”. Email: alex.moss@filmjuice.com