Evolution

[Johnny Marr]

Richard Combs (apologies for the misattribution) wrote this for Sight &
Sound:

*Contains plot twist*

Should we begin with the starfish? It seems inevitable, since it appear at
the start of Lucile Hadzihalovic's two feature films to date. In *Innocence
*(2004), it was a decorative emblem on the coffin that transported the new
girl to a secluded boarding school. In *Evolution*, the starfish is where
it should be, in a marine pool and is first seen by ten-year-old Nicolas
(Max Brebant) as he swims near his island home and glimpses the bright red
echinoderm perched on what looks like the drowned body of another boy.
The symbolism of the starfish is potentially wide-ranging, including its
representation of the Virgin Mary - the Stella Maris, 'Star of the Sea' -
as a guarantor of safe conduct over troubled waters. For the purposes of
*Evolution*, a peculiar aspect of starfish biology might be more to the
point: its ability to reproduce both sexually and asexually. Nicolas and
the other boys living in their isolated home (there are no girls, just as
there were no boys in *Innocence* until its final scenes) seem to have been
corralled for a scientific experiment in which they are implanted either
through caesarean or in some kind of birthing tank. The medical staff are
all female,and the boys live with female carers whom they accept as their
mothers.
This is a place of strange, threatening rituals - such as the night-time
sessions on the beach where the 'mothers' writhe orgasmically on the sand
in a (star-shaped) circle. Most threatening are the peeling, dilapidated
precincts of the hospital where Nicolas is eventually injected with the
substance that will result in him giving birth. To prepare for this
parturition, he is fed every day with a greenish, worm-like gruel and given
a dose of medicine. This, he is told, is "because at your age your body is
changing and weakening ... like lizards or crabs". Starfish, though, have a
more special destiny: "They only change once, at birth. Afterwards a new
cycle begins, a new life".
Where do the boys fit in this scheme of creation? Or is the scheme itself
just a heightened version, a surrealistic exaggeration, of what they can
expect as they approach puberty? The world here - the dark volcanic sand, a
tight little village of white houses - is strangely but as satisfyingly
organised as the dark tunnels and lush forest of *Innocence. *For
Hadzihalovic, the sense of control is essential to the creation of a
complete, self-enclosed world, and to a visual aesthetic with its own
stilled, enigmatic quality, like the de Chirico paintings she admires.
A shot in the opening title sequence - looking up from beneath the surface
of the water as Nicolas swims above, like a lonely spermatozoon - suggests
that the air of menace hanging over these worlds is not an external threat
so much as the anxieties of growth and change, the struggle of life. The
women - who the boys begin to suspect are not really their mothers - also
look as if they might be in transition, their skin pallid and uniformly
smooth, their large dark eyes vaguely cetacean. If *Evolution *is defined
by its fantastical exaggerations, they seem tilted towards science fiction,
as *Innocence *was to suggestions of horror. The scientific apparatus of
cross-gender pregnancy and birth has a Cronenberg look, while the two
humanoid creatures to which Nicolas gives birth might owe their p/maternity
to David Lynch.
Elsewhere, there's a glowing, detailed naturalism in Manuel Dacosse and
Rafael Herrero's underwater photography in the reefs around Lanzarote. This
could be the world of Jacques Costeau, but the naturalism has its own
surrealistic shock, and the languorous movement of the multicoloured flora
fits in Hadzihalovic's stated aesthetic: "We wanted to capture a kind of
abstraction through organic matter and movement". The'Scope images are
alternately immersed in the big blue or fragmented by dark, sulphurous
spaces in the hospital.
Eventually, Nicolas is led into the depths when he is befriended by a nurse
(Roxanne Duran) at the hospital, and they set off on an underwater odyssey
that is also a kind of mating. Or is it "the dream of a friend ...
somewhere on our own planet", as Mike Nichols described the relationship
between the human protagonist and a cetacean companion in his
non-surrealist fantasy *The Day of the Dolphin *(1973)? The nurse
eventually abandons Nicolas and he finds himself on the shore of a brightly
lit city that looks like our world. Only after she disappears do we learn
that her name is Stella.



On Mon, Jan 9, 2017 at 8:05 PM, Johnny Marr <marrja at gmail.com> wrote:

> Yes, very beautiful if opaque. I came out with the standard reading of
> 'mother-son relations', but I think Hannah MacHill had an absolutely
> fascinating interpretation of it as a religious allegory. Will try to find
> ...
>
>
> On Monday, January 9, 2017, Jesse Gooch <jlgooch at hotmail.com> wrote:
>
>> Has anyone else watched Evolution?  The 2016 French movie about the kids
>> on the island?
>>
>> Don’t wanna ruin it with any more details.  If you haven’t, check it out
>> and let me know what you think.  I really liked it, beautifull imagery,
>> interesting situation etc.  Haven’t seen much about it elsewhere aside from
>> reviews, thought some of you might have some insight.
>>
>
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