What Happened To Monday?

“In the perfect world every child has the right to live” – Nicholette Cayman

Think carefully about this question: would you want to be beset by 7 irate and vengeful instances of Noomi Rapace?  Let’s face it, after seeing her in the Millennium trilogy you wouldn’t bet against Noomi in any situation.  Besides, anything good enough for Alec Guinness (Kind Hearts and Coronets) is surely good enough for a woman too.

Admittedly, in Norwegian director Tommy Wirkola‘s What Happened To Monday? (European name Seven Sisters is frankly way better) the number of living Noomi sisters are whittled down fairly rapidly, such that the survivors brave the odds to film their one other possibly living sister in a dystopian future reminiscent of several of our greatest sci-fi yarns.

The one fact common to all of these (Nineteen Eighty-Four, Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451, Logan’s Run etc.) is that they involve the curtailment of liberties Americans and Brits hold dear.  Arguably these liberties are already at severe risk through the actions of our respective governments, which would suggest sci-fi is more in danger of coming true year on year, even if our society never appears quite as authoritarian as the great dystopian visions might suggest.

In this case the Child Allocation Bureau combats catastrophic overpopulation in 2073 through strict application of a single-child policy two steps beyond the draconian policy once applied by China. Siblings are out, so no more than one could every survive dystopian bureaucracy. We later learn there is a “process” that involves high-tech cremation, but you can find that out for yourself.

The Noomis (aka the Settman family, conveniently named Monday through Sunday), are septets, brought up with iron discipline by their kindly father Terrence (the delightful Wilem Dafoe) for their own good and survival.  Such is tough love.  Bearing in mind the advanced technology available to this society, including retinal scans and electronic ID bracelets to approve access from one part of the city to another and access within buildings, this is no mean feat.

Conveniently, Noomi Monday through Sunday are all given a very individual look (blonde Noomi, geeky speccy Noomi, short-haired Noomi, redhead Noomi etc.) to help us differentiate them, though out of their apartment they have a single identity, that of Karen Settman, since to the outside world they must appear to be an only child.

Natch, the Bureau are soon on to them, especially in the person of super creepy Nicholette Cayman (Glenn Close), whose nefarious activities include being a strange contract our Noomis puzzle over, since it holds the key. Ultimately they have no choice but to break into the Bureau to find the truth – but first they have to outwit the Bureau’s heavily armed gorillas, against the odds.

Trust me, you would need an army of Noomis to out-muscle these guys, though they do a pretty neat job of outwitting the Bureau – at no little cost. Conveniently for us, all the bureau guys, except those in the lab, wear blue shell suits and peaked caps bearing a distinct resemblance to the French gengardarmarie.

The spoilers stop there, but it is worth saying that I rather enjoyed this little sci-fi fantasy, and especially the multiplicity of Noomis among a deliciously evil cast.  Suffice it to say that there is a twist, one you may well guess but my lips are sealed.

One thing I will add is that the portrayal of multiple Noomis on screen reaches new heights of technical accomplishment, but I guess quite a few stunt Noomis must have been on standby too – I do hope Noomis are not expendable.  I won’t tell you how many Noomis survive, but they are ultimately reprieved. You’ve got to have a happy ending, it’s written in the – er – script.

The critics were sniffy.  Variety described it as a “ludicrous, violent, amusingly dumb sci-fi actioner…although it is full of plot holes and Rapace’s characters are thinly characterized, it is likely to become a cult film.”  Granted some of those are valid criticisms, but show me a sci-fi that could not justly be spoken of in the same terms?  On its own terms, WHTM is entertaining and worth a view, even if it never ripped up any trees en route to the top box office.

In summary, I’m inclined to call this a flawed success of a movie, well-cast, technically proficient in its stunts, empowered by a strong dystopian drive, but weakened largely by the lack of humour in Max Botkin and Kerry Williamson’s script.  This is an area in which they could have taken a few lessons from Kingsman: the Secret Service.

 

 

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