Fifty years ago, the sci-fi thriller “Soylent Green” warned viewers of a distant future—the year 2022—where environmental catastrophe and over-population would cause such dire resource scarcity that the bodies of those who ended their lives voluntarily and with the government’s assistance were transformed into edible wafers to feed the masses.
In “White Plastic Sky,” a heady dystopian animated feature from Hungary, directors Tibor Bánóczki and Sarolta Szabó depart from nearly the exact same premise, a reality a century from now where crops and animals no longer exist, but the solution to ensure humanity’s survival is no longer a matter of personal agency but of mandated duty for all citizens.
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Where the powers in charge in “Soylent Green” offered a peaceful departure for those who chose to die before processing their corpses, the authorities in “White Plastic Sky” reclaim a person’s body the moment they turn 50, whether they are ready to go or not, in order to implant a seed that will morph them into trees whose leaves, in turn, become food.
An intellectually invigorating conversation piece, even if most of its philosophical propositions go under-examined, the film enthralls through its high-stakes narrative ambitions: each conundrum speaks to larger existential concerns—mainly those about our responsibility to ourselves and to others (collectivism vs. individualism) in this world. The ethical question about the sacrificial aspect of this solution, preaching that a partial life for all with a fixed expiration date is better than no life at all, demands deeper interrogation.
Characters conceived through rotoscoping techniques inhabit the sleek CG environments of a futuristic Budapest that exists inside a protective dome—hence the white plastic sky. Outside its walls, there’s only barren land and treacherous weather conditions. Inside, loudspeakers encourage the population to have children young so that they can meet their grandkids before their time to be consumed arrives in this cannibal apocalypse.
At 32, a distraught Nora (Zsófia Szamosi) has volunteered to have the seed implanted in her heart ahead of time. Her husband, Stefan (Tamás Keresztes), a psychologist specializing in easing people’s anxieties about seeing their loved ones depart in such a way, betrays his own convictions and embarks on a quest to try to save her before the transition happens.
As Stefan infiltrates the facilities where individuals transmute to find Nora, Bánóczki and Szabó invest a substantial portion of their somber adventure on the mechanics of this morally questionable bio-mutation. Images of thousands of naked bodies in different stages of the process detail the dehumanization they undergo at the “Plantation,” as the location that houses multiple artificial islands or arboretums for the flesh-and-bone flora is known.
Surreal and traumatic as their circumstances may seem to us, the central couple has only ever known this set of rules, thus when Nora regains consciousness thanks to the help of Dr. Madu (Judit Schell), whose own body has partially evolved into vegetation, they don’t yearn for life after 50, but only for the 18 years they still legally have ahead. They don’t aspire to overhaul the system or revolt (that won’t bring other food sources back) but simply to remain together until their mutual end, whatever form that resolution ultimately takes.
Seemingly divided into three parts, “White Plastic Sky” begins with the exposition of the sci-fi concepts. Once the heroes leave the Plantation to find the only person who can remove Nora’s growing seed, their unresolved marital conflicts and unhealed wounds take priority. While traversing the peaceful vastness of an often-dazzling wasteland, the married protagonists dig into their most vulnerable facets, though still stoic, via Szamosi and Keresztes’ understated performances. That’s when the film is at its most evocative, affecting, and bizarrely romantic. They are staring at impending doom, but not alone.
As for the animation, despite how brightly rendered it is, with fluorescent colors and hyperrealist textures, there’s a noticeable separation between the human figures and the settings, perhaps due to how each element was accomplished and their perceived volume, which at times isn’t flattering. There are still pieces of the production design, such as the transparent oval-shaped vehicles or the arid outdoor terrain, that instantly catches one’s eye.
By the time they reach the man behind this radical yet supposedly egalitarian plan to prevent the extinction of mankind, Nora can understand the language of the trees, which once were people. In that interplay, the filmmakers’ ecological ethos is revealed. When will we listen to the will of nature as it violently and desperately reacts to our voracity and greed? Perhaps our constant efforts to remain here on this planet at all costs are misguided.
Given the agreed-upon parameter that every person gets half a century to live so long as everyone keeps their end of the bargain, the realization that even the mastermind that saved civilization surrendered to human nature and bent the strict laws motivated by his innermost emotions illustrates the innate flaw, or miracle, of our condition: we’d be willing to risk the continuation of our species for the chance of a moment with someone we love. [B-]
