One of the stranger fragments of Orwellian paraphernalia you’re likely to see. Less a Jim Carrey-comedy – he’s (relatively) restrained here – more a slice of existential sci-fi. My solitary laugh came when I spotted Philip Glass playing piano in the background of one scene having just recognised his music, and that was an Easter egg rather than a joke. As sci-fi, however, it’s more than functional; 100-minutes in a technicolour police state clinched with the culmination of narrative, score, imagery, and Ed Harris momentarily becoming God.
B+
Alex Crisp : Not Another Critic 