[With Xavier Gens' The Divide now screening in Sitges we revisit our earlier review.]
The apocalypse has never looked and sounded so beautiful. As
Eva (Carmen German) looks out on the annihilation of New York, the films
makes music with the bombs, and spends as much on time on this
hideously remarkable view as it does on Eva's reaction. In the next
instant, she is being dragged down the stairs by her husband. She, he,
and a few others manage to get inside the basement before the door slams
shut on the world. A group of strangers now must learn to to survive
not only their new surroundings, but each other. They have no idea what
is happening outside. They do not know when, if ever, they will be able
to leave.
Xavier Gens, as he has shown in his previous films Frontier(s) and Hitman,
is not afraid to shy away from the darkest corners of the human psyche.
And this is indeed a dark, terrifying space. The nine survivors range
from the single mother to the quiet artist to the racist sueprintendant,
in whose care the tenants find themselves. He, Mickey (Michael Biehn)
has apparently prepared for this event, stocking up on food and water,
but with no past intention of sharing. This people are not family, or
even friends. Personalities will inevitably clash, and lives will
definitely be in danger not only from possible radiation poisoning, but
from frayed minds.
The story begins very
strong, with Laurent Barès'amazing cinematography showing us a basement
that is metaphorically black and white; there is no comfort of color or
anything that will give a semblance of hope. Up until this point, the
film has been riveting. As supplies ran low and nerves are fraying, the
darkness creeps in visually and metaphorically. Some of the men were
obviously assholes in their pre-apocalypse lives, and their current
situation only enhances this. In fact, rather than changing, the
survivors become in many ways more of what they are, whether it be bad,
or good, or quiet, or reasonable.
Early in the
film, there is a moment of hope when the door is breached and men in
survival suits appear. But they kidnap the young girl, and a brief
investigation reveals that those on the outside are involved in
something nefarious, leading the survivors to attempt to fight back.
Unfortunately, this line of the story is never followed; rather, it is a
means to an end to have the door to the survivor's lair welded shut, in
order to literally seal their fate. At this point, the narrative
drifts. If there was a narrative need to keep the survivors in the
basement, it could have been better served by not giving the audience
such a fascinating twist that will never be further explored. I kept
wanting to learn more about what was happening on the outside, and
became frustrated with the continued mental collapse of the survivors.
Because
unfortunately, the middle act of the film falls into cliche. Breakdown
of the group's early, relatively peaceful if difficult co-existence,
happens rapidly. One of the survivors is murdered by another; the two
assholes, Bobby and Josh, take over control of the food and take one of
the women as their sex slave, and the few good people are left to go mad
and die. But are they good? Or are they just as willing to kill to
survive just a little longer? Luckily, the film picks up again towards
the end, as the final confrontation becomes a battle of wills. Knowing
that escape is likely impossible, the only stakes are surviving as long
as possible. But is it even worth it? The food and water might be
plentiful, but it will run out eventually, and they will all likely die
of radiation poisoning or murder long before. No one can be trusted.
Gens
and screenwriters Karl Mueller and Eron Sheean are presenting an
incredibly cynical and yet highly likely scenario. While most
apocalypse film will present most people as good, ready to help each
other, this comes perhaps because of some sense of hope. In The Divide,
there is no hope, and so these humans are reduced to their worst and in
most cases most horrifying characteristics. The end comes with both a
bang and a whimper.