by Adam Ferenz
October 1997, 106 minutes. Ethan Hawke, Uma Thurman, Jude Law, Loren Dean, Gore Vidal.
Andrew Niccol’s opus, Gattaca, is not only among the smartest work of science fiction-different to Sci Fi-of the 1990s, but among the best films of that decade. From the opening sequence, during which the narrator, Vincent, describes his origin, through to our view of him as a child growing up, then moving away as a young man, we are introduced to a world similar to but vitally different from our own. This is a world in which genetic testing determines everything about you. Your life, in total. How others view you, and, perhaps, how you view yourself. Of course, as the tag line for the film says “there is no gene for the human spirit” and it is this theme which is so expertly explored. What makes us who we are? Is it the circumstances of our birth, our flesh and bones, or is it our desires, our determination, and our feelings? Where the film lands is clear. What makes the film great is that instead of being judged, the characters are explored in relation to how their beliefs have affected them.
The plot itself is basic: Vincent, now in his guise as Jerome, lives in a world where everyone is placed based on their genetic markers, based on testing done at birth, which determines probabilities of everything from physical to mental disorders and likely age of death. These are the Valids and the Invalids. To the former, he has become a “borrowed ladder” because he has faked his way out of the latter, to which he belongs. Vincent works at Gattaca, a space agency, as a navigator, on a coming mission to Titan. However, the chief mission director has been murdered and Vincent, observing the scene amidst a crowd, leaves behind an eyelash. This leads the police, of which his brother is a member, to search for him. Throw in Vincent’s blossoming love affair with the brilliant technician, Irene, and the very real consequences for being the perpetrator of a major fraud, and Vincent is in potentially dire trouble. That he escapes it is at times in doubt. What matters here is the journey, and that is where the film differentiates itself.
The film appears at first to be a simple story about a murder, and then perhaps a struggle between two brothers, but it is so much more than that. What the film is, is the story of humans overcoming imposed limitations and reaching for something better. Within the confines of the film, which is straight up, hard core, old school science fiction, this is accomplished through scientific means. Indeed, the entire plot and background of the film would not exist without the conceit of genetic manipulation, which is but one of several science elements.
Manipulation, primarilyof genetics, and deceit, such as what Vincent does, also factor in to the story, with Vincent becoming the aforementioned “borrowed ladder” a person who uses a genetically superior person to advance their position in society, which is accomplished in his case through not only the subterfuge of special contact lenses, altered hair color and style ,and use of the real Jerome’s bodily fluids and tissues to pass tests, but also by having his legs extended in a painful process in order to gain a few additional inches of height to complete the deception. This is about reality and perception, and the world in which one lives.
The world of Gattaca is a world not unlike our own, with biases rooted in genetic purity, in perceived norms. The geneticist that offers Vincent’s parents “the best of both of you” when they select how his brother, Anton, will be, makes it very clear that everything is a choice. And, if everything is a choice, then do those genetics really matter? The society or culture in which the narrative occurs would not agree but it would appear that the message here is simple: choice overcomes everything else.
That the film is perfectly scored by Michael Nyman, and wonderfully shot by SlawomirIdziak, is obvious, as is the equally inspired production design by Jan Roelfs. Under the direction of Niccol, who also wrote the screenplay, the film is a marvel.While this is a triumph of writing and direction, the acting in the film is also uniformly excellent, with the standout being Jude Law as Jerome Morrow, the man-paralyzed from the waist down in a failed suicide attempt-whoseDNA Vincent borrows in order to work as a navigator at Gattaca. Through the use of his eyes and the set of his shoulders, Law evokes the sense of a man who is biding his time, realizing his only purpose is as a thing, his worth defined not as who he is but what.
The film is tightly paced, yet, despite the short period of time the main plot covers, allows itself to bask in the glow of the society it depicts. We are constantly reminded of the cold, determinist nature of this society through the architecture and attire found at Gattaca itself, through the too-formal music that its inhabitants listen to, and through the insults we witness between police and those at Gattaca, namely the living co-director, who winds up being the killer, and who at one point states “my profile will tell you I have not a violent molecule in my body.” As we see these flourishes, we are swept along from the murder scene, to a set of flashbacks to Vincent’s childhood and early life as an adult, his decision to become Jerome, the process by which that happens and then to the week which follows. It is in that week that the police investigate the murder, causing Vincent to doubt his ability to maintain the ruse.
What the film fails to do is minimal. It could be said there isn’t enough outright action, but this is a false complaint, missing the point of what is meant as a cerebral exercise. It may, to some, seem uninvolving because there are long stretches of people talking, but the talking is vital, demonstrating how the people interact with one another in this society, where instead of money and color, genetic purity, a lack of perceived defects, has replaced the terminology of old bigotry. This is an interesting point because in our current society, racism has three main factors: fear, hatred and opportunity. Fear of what is different and what challenges your base of power. Hatred of that source of fear. Opportunity to combat it, in the cruelest, most essential-determinist manner available. In the world of Gattaca, fear of different and challenges to power still exist, as does opportunity, but now the opportunity is through testing a person’s genome, and the challenge is not to those of different colors, but those who one fears might pose a threat to your perfect world, who have overcome the box one has put them in.
Vincent calls this new bigotry Genoism. “It’s against the law, but nobody cares about the law” he says at one point. Where once it was the superiority of the white or black or brown or yellow, or what have you, and the inferiority of all who were not as you, because of color and religion, the point of view has shifted. It is still about how you were born. If you were not created or modified or otherwise screened through at a lab, to “be the best of both parents” as one geneticist says, you can look forward to a life of sweeping and mopping, of scrubbing toilets and flipping burgers. Do not dare dream, because dreams exist only for those who have won the genetic lottery.
In this sense, the film depicts a world not far removed from our own, with parallels we can clearly see and which become all the more alarming because of it. That this is a world we could easily imagine ourselves creating, the film has an added layer of reality. Class differences, all imagined but nevertheless imposed, exist in our world. Gattaca merely presents a progression of current norms, using the murder investigation as a MacGuffin.
This investigation results in one of the best sequences of the movie, in which Vincent alerts Jerome, who is at home, that the police are coming to question him. The policeman that is arriving, accompanied by Irene,Vincent’s girlfriend, is Anton, the brother whom Vincent used to race in swimming contests, and whom he beat but once, the night he decided to leave. In this scene, Jerome is on the bottom floor of the unit he and Vincent share, and he must make his way, quickly, up the spiral staircase. The look on the girlfriend’s face, who knows Vincent isn’t Vincent, but hadn’t expected this, and on Anton-who was expecting to see his brother, whom he suspects is the killer due to the “invalid” eyelash found outside the crime scene-is full of both rage and fear, particularly after having to kiss Jerome to sell the lie.
When Anton, not quite satisfied with this display, is unable to snoop around the unit, because he has been recalled to take the confession of the co-director, leaves the house, Vincent, now present, slowly walks up the steps. As the music hits a soft cue, she begins to crumble, not so much physically, as emotionally, the pain and fear written on her face. “Hello Jerome. Just got home?”“Yes, Jerome. How did you get up here?”“I could always walk. Just didn’t tell you.” As Vincent follows her out the door she has now fled through, he begs her to understand, expressing that he is still the person she knows, and that it is not impossible, that she-who by the measures of their society, should not be alive-should be the first to understand what impossible really means.
The heart of the film is on full display here. It is a film about overcoming. Not meant to uplift or inspire, but to make you think. That it also makes you feel is a testament to the talent and skill with which the film is made. If the film has failings, they are that it is too intelligent to have been marketed as a mainstream work, too dark in its material, and that the style was a bit of an obvious throwback. None of this ought to matter. A work should be allowed to stand or fall on its own merits. Does the film maintain continuity and fidelity to the rules it has set up for itself? Yes. Does it make you think and feel? The answer should be yes. Is there another film precisely like it? None prior or since. While the film is about the journey, it is both a unique and universal one, a trip through a life like and unlike what we experience in our current day and age.
While issues of genetic manipulation have been a part of fiction going back to at least The Island of Doctor Moreau, or perhaps even Frankenstein-at the least-this is a work which takes the argument forward, using very modern, yet eternal questions and concerns, to explore what it means to be human and to find dignity within a society which would reject you based on chance rather than choice, and why people put any stock in either. This is not a mad scientist story. Indeed, the two doctors we meet are a geneticist and a staff doctor, who we learn at the end, always knew Vincent was faking, but did not care, because his own son was considered too genetically inferior, despite being “Valid” to be allowed to move about in the upper circles of acceptable society. Instead, it is a story of humanity, and how people relate to one another. Parallels to the aforementioned stories may be coincidental, yet should not be ignored when considering what the film evokes.
On balance, this is an extraordinary film-which neatly updates a subgenre-about overcoming social pressures, denying destiny and believing in yourself. It is both hopeful and realistic, because while it shows triumphs, these come with costs, moral and ethical, with losses that perhaps outweigh the gains, and through means often questionable. It gives one room to think, to respond and to consider the world around them in a new way. True Science Fiction is supposed to manage this feat. Gattaca succeeds in this. For that, and the many reasons given here, the film is a triumph. A classic which deserves to be on any top list of films in its genre and, arguably, all time regardless of genre.
Andrew Niccol’s opus, Gattaca, is not only among the smartest work of science fiction-different to Sci Fi-of the 1990s, but among the best films of that decade.
Indeed it is Adam, for me it vies with Davies’ THE LONG DAY CLOSES and Tarr’s SATANTANGO as greatest film of the 90’s, and it is through and through a science fiction work par excellence. The aching, elegiac score by Michael Nyman is one of the greatest in movie history, the cast in superlative, the visuals wholly magnificent. The work is transporting and transcendent and you have written a mightily passionate essay here.
Many thanks for the reminder that I’m overdue a rewatch of this one. This countdown is playing havoc with my viewing schedule . . .
Twenty years is both a short time and a long time ago. Cell phones only made phone calls and sent short text messages. My kids were in elementary school. I didn’t have a balding tonsure and white hairs. Before #climatechange and #blacklivesmatter. And even as recently as 2009 when I reviewed Gattaca here I believed in something called the human spirit.
But at base everything remains the same. As my father used to say “si stava meglio quando si stava peggio” (we were better off when we worse off).
Today I am more sanguine. Like all great science fiction Gattaca is more about today than some fantastic future in which human intelligence and technology have created a fantastic metropolis where despite all that ingenuity, dystopia is the state of affairs.
Why would we expect any different? When Orson Welles up in that ferris wheel spoke of the Borgias and cuckoo clocks he perhaps had it back the front. Did all that creative energy collectively produce great structures and timeless art while wallowing in a muck of oppression and violence, or was the very muck the collective result of all that furious intelligence.
The future of GATTACA is very much like how we live today and have lived down the centuries. Your genes or the colour of your skin, or the economic circumstances of your birth, largely and reliably determine life outcomes. The human spirit talk is largely just that. Powerful propaganda to obscure the structures of disadvantage and inequality. All that intelligence and creativity harnessed to maintain the status quo and in the service of a leadership of unbounded stupidity and greed at best or evil at worst.
Jerome’s self-incineration is perhaps the real take away.
Here is Tony’s own magnificent review of GATTACA from 2009 on his Another Cinema Blog:
http://anothercinemablog.blogspot.com/2009/02/gattaca-1997-there-is-no-gene-for-human.html
Count me in on Nyman’s score.
Oh, that score. Among the films of the late 90s and early 2000’s, this is one of my favorites. Others being-but not limited to-those for Requiem for a Dream, Princess Mononoke, The Vengeance Trilogy, The Red Violin, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and LOTR.