‘Where is the dividing line between human and animal?’ Photo: Still image from Annihilation.
‘Annihilation’ directed by Alex Garland
A review by Mike Brooks
This sci-fi thriller provokes serious spiritual questions about the interdependent nature of human life and the ecosystem. The story in a nutshell: an object from space smashes into a remote part of the US coastline, triggering an ecological event in which an area of swampland is colonised by a mysterious force, cordoned off by an iridescent wall of light. None who have ventured into the area have come out alive. The movie follows the tribulations of the latest investigation into the area by a team of soldiers and scientists led by Lena, played by Natalie Portman.
Catching it a year after its release, I was surprised to discover this engaging movie was a box office bomb. For me, Annihilation makes an impact that is both visceral and philosophical – an intriguing, at times shocking, and visually original romp that does justice to the startling book by Jeff VanderMeer on which it is based. Expect plenty of throw-your-popcorn-in-the-air moments and a glimpse of a different universe.
What this movie does so well – in keeping with the best sci-fi – is to offer the viewer a thought experiment that compels us to re-examine our existence. Specifically, where is the dividing line between human and animal, between plant and animal, between living cells and emotions? The Earth today is the product of the evolution of Gaia, but who’s to say our present ecosystem was the only possibility? Can we imagine an evolution whose diversions did not produce humans? If we can, what are the spiritual, existential and ecological implications?
All life is made of cellular stuff. In this respect, humans are no different to animals, insects, plants and everything that lives. Of late, the green movement has reminded us about the interdependence of all living things. Taking this idea a step further into psychological territory, consider the life of feelings and thoughts. We tend to think of humans as discrete, with each individual contained within their own skin boundary. But, in fact, our thoughts and feelings wash in and out of each other – we are constantly impacted by other people’s words and emotions – and this in turn can affect our physical wellbeing. Our skin boundaries are more permeable than we commonly believe: all living things change and are changed by each other. In exploring these ideas, Annihilation offers a thought experiment – a kind of kōan riddle – that allows us to question the nature of existence itself and our relationship to the ecosystem.
For Quakers not usually drawn to sci-fi, Annihilation might offer a refreshing cultural detour. Indeed, one of the film’s most exhilarating and beautiful scenes is a literal play on the idea of ‘light’. Taken as a whole, the film could be viewed as an allegory for the spiritual quest.
