Vesper Review: Strong Lead & Creative Worldbuilding Carry Indie Sci-Fi
One of the pleasures of science fiction is that it provides a chance for actual creation, allowing one to alter the world in ways that others would never imagine. Good science fiction films make use of this to make viewers think broadly, profoundly, or, if they're lucky, both. Vesper fits into the first category. The movie takes tremendous pleasure in exploring its artistically and conceptually intriguing setting, which is a dystopia brought about by synthetic biology gone awry. The movie has an immersive aspect that makes how the tale is delivered feel more significant than the story itself, despite the narrative frame not always being the smoothest.
Vesper, as described in a foreboding title card, takes place after humanity's attempt to use genetic technology to avert an ecological catastrophe backfires, eradicating not only the majority of people but also the world's native (i.e. edible) flora and wildlife. The haves, who live in highly superior, contained Citadels, and the have-nots, who struggle to survive outside of them, have created a clear division in society. Typically, this entails purchasing their genetically modified seeds, which the Citadels, in all their business acumen, have programmed to produce only one harvest. The young Vesper (Raffiella Chapman) makes her life in this world.
She forages for food and does agreements with her shady uncle Jonas (Eddie Marsan), who has made a living by selling the Citadel blood from his numerous offspring, along with her disabled father Darius (Richard Brake), whose consciousness can float around with her in a drone. While Vesper is a dreamer, he is a cynical survivalist. Despite her circumstances, she is a talented genetic engineer who longs for a chance to prove her abilities to the closed-off oligarchs and secure her and her father a better life inside their gates.
Plant life that has been creatively created and can occasionally breathe, move, or bite is all around Vesper. The technology she employs has an organic design and is frequently loaded with fluids of varying viscosities. Its metallic and fleshy textures data-border on being Cronenbergian. The most appealing aspect of Vesper is the worldbuilding technique of "show, don't tell." The movie's concentration on a tiny village makes its scope manageable, but one can sense the filmmakers expanding on the main idea and pushing the audience to do the same, to the point where it seems like the movie covers more ground than it needs to.
Vesper provides a powerful visual illustration of the relationship between social injustice and the effects of climate change, but some thematic elements, particularly the Citadel's ability to produce artificial human servants (which is hinted at by the so-called Jug at Jonas' house), need to be explored more thoroughly. Although these problems exist, they don't significantly detract from the viewing experience, therefore this independent sci-fi film is nevertheless highly recommended.