Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Mahalia Belo
Starring: Jodie Comer, Joel Fry, Benedict Cumberbatch, Katherine Waterston, Mark Strong, Gina
McKee
Director Mahalia Belo and screenwriter Alice Birch's
adaptation of Megan Hunter's novel
The End We Start From views an apocalyptic event through the
eyes of a young mother. Not just any eyes, but the big expressive eyes of
rising star Jodie Comer. Her compelling performance elevates what is
otherwise a largely indistinctive take on the apocalypse.
The film takes place in the aftermath of mass flooding that destroy's
Britain's urban centres. Belo doesn't have the budget to shut down city
centre streets but she finds clever ways to convey the chaos. The opening
scene is perhaps the film's highlight as we spend time alone with our
pregnant protagonist (Comer, whose character is credited simply as "Woman"
while everyone else is credited with merely a letter of the alphabet) in her
London home. What begins as a regular bit of London rain outside gradually
escalates to something far more sinister. The power goes out and water
begins to seep under the doors. Just as London's water is breaking, the
woman goes into labour, waking up in a hospital as the city descends into
chaos outside.
The woman and her boyfriend, R (Joel Fry), decide to leave the city
and head for what they assume is the safety of the country, where R's
parents (Mark Strong and Nina Sosanya) reside. That illusion
is soon shattered as a series of tragic events lead to the woman and her
newborn, Zeb (the only character in the movie that gets a name), entering a
mass shelter. There she befriends another young mother (Katherine Waterston) and the two make the best of their lot until the worst of humanity
strikes once again.
This subject matter has been covered so thoroughly at this point that much
of The End We Start From is rehashing well worn tropes. There
are scenes that resemble outtakes from '70s grimfest
No Blade of Grass, Children of Men and the later scenes of generation scarring
TV drama Threads, not to mention 28 Days Later, The Walking Dead, The Last of Us and any number of post-apocalyptic
media.
What makes it stand out somewhat from a crowded field is the centring of a
protagonist who is a genuine everywoman. Comer's young mother is completely
out of her depth in this scenario, as would 99% of the population in such a
crisis. She makes decisions that seem naive and unwise, and even acts in a
manner that suggests she doesn't have the best interests of her child at
heart. Watching her eschew the comforts of a commune to traipse across wind
beaten moors with her baby strapped precariously to her chest, it would be
easy to frown upon her, but Comer adds a vital touch of humanity and naivete
to the character. Belo wisely keeps the camera close to her lead actress at
all times, allowing the surrounding chaos to be conveyed by her facial
expressions and making up for the lack of elaborate crowd scenes.
The film too often takes narrative shortcuts to tell its story in a
constrictive time frame. The storytelling is episodic in nature, suggesting
it may have fared better as a mini-series, and it moves in and out of its
various vignettes without giving each new development room to breath. Too
often dialogue is used to fill in blanks, like how a character played by
Benedict Cumberbatch tells us the problem with the commune rather
than letting the viewer decipher it for themselves. The woman talks a lot
about how deeply in love she and her boyfriend were, but despite some
flashbacks we never really get the sense that they were soulmates. Fry, an
actor whose strong suit is in more comedic fare, is miscast and struggles to
sell his character's psychological state. Ultimately, just as her character
is left alone in an unreliable world, Comer is left to cradle a film that
would be largely unremarkable without her presence.
