While many films (and art in general) grapple with the question of what it means to be human, science fiction offers the tropes and syntax to make that question more palpable, or give means to approach it from an atypical perspective. For filmmaker Aaron Silverstein, approaching the question of what makes our existence unique (as far as we know) finds engagement in the form of an alien presence deeply hostile to human shape and existence in his feature film debut, The Infinite Husk. While not entirely successful in its execution, it nonetheless asks familiar questions in a philosophically surreal tone, anchored by an excellent lead performance.
Vel (Peace Ikediuba) is the member of an alien species: one that exists without physical form, able to roam the great expanse of the universe at will, and live for an exceptionally long period of time. But it seems she has committed a crime serious enough, that her sentence is to be sent to what is considered a backwater planet. Her mission: while embodying this lower, primitive life form, she must observe and report on another of her species, known as Mauro (Circus-Szalewski), who has been inhabiting humans 'husks' for centuries, and find out what they are doing.
Vel's first husk is a quick disaster, before she finds herself in the body of a Black woman in contemporary Los Angeles. For a being that can roam the vast and quiet universe, the cacophony of sounds, sights, and smells, the limitations of her physical form, and the duties of her body are complex and unfathomable in that limitation. Social requirements take too long to process, not all bodily functions come automatically, she has only partial understanding of what she needs to survive in this tiny world, and her hatred of her situation keeps her in state of near fear, like a rabbit waiting to jump at the smallest sound.
In contrast to this is Mauro: he has been in so many husks at this point he's lost track, a prisoner on this planet for reasons never fully given, so attuned to the ways of human life that he's well aware of its dangers and does not care. Why should he? As soon as one husk dies, he'll be imprisoned in another. This is an Earth-weary alien; but also one who has found something unique about our otherwise disgusting species: the connections between language and reality, between image and knowledge, that apparently eludes his and Vel's own existence. And apparently for this, his work as a scientist, he is condemned, and Vel must find out the details or she will be condemned as well.
Does Vel do her duty, with its hoped-for reward of freedom? Or does she work alongside her fellow alien scientist to figure out the key to this strange wonder of language, meaning, and time? Her choice shows how, even though she might feel herself dirty and small as a human, there is still the hunger for understanding, the desire to find that calculation that could explain everything, if such a thing is possible. Curiosity wins out, and even though she is taking a risk, Vel senses that there is more her superiors are not telling her about Mauro's endless imprisonment and why they seek to silence his work.
Ikebiuba is a solid and impressive anchor to this story. She plays well how Vel would have no idea why this particular husk, a Black woman, would encounter such hatred and disrespect. Vel's loathing of her physical state shows in how she keeps herself small, expresses no interest in learning of the rest of the human world, but still becomes fixated on how this existence could prove key to understand the universe as she knows it: immeasurable and cold. Her emotional state is fragile, but Ikediuba informs her choices with an understanding of her alien character as highly intelligent, desperate, and unwilling to accept the repression her superiors try to force on Vel.
When the film doesn't work, though, it can feel as if the audience is trapped in a husk. It's not easy to hold attention and power during quiet moments, which too often drag out for no reason. This film is mainly about conversations and discovery, and too often just watching Vel go back and forth from her motel room becomes dull. Tighter pacing, a shorter running time, would have helped the minimalist story have more power.
The Infinite Husk is taking a big concept and whittling it down to its essence, which works most of the time, and offering a mainly analog sci fi story about the nature of the universe, time, and existence feel both scientific and poetic.
The Infinite Husk opens in select cinemas in Los Angeles, Columbus, and Boston on February 6th, expanding to more cities in the coming weeks, and on digital via Chrome in March. Check the website below for details.