I Origins
Contrived and pretentious, this is like being trapped in a room full of undergrad philosophy students.
Overview
God or the atom. Science versus faith. It's one of the great ongoing debates in human history; a conflict inextricably connected with the meaning of life itself. It's also the foundation for the tedious new film by writer-director Mike Cahill. Contrived and pretentious from title card to end credits, watching I Origins is like being trapped in a room full of undergrad philosophy students. It's got no shortage of interesting ideas; it just lacks the maturity to see them develop.
At his best when playing on the fringes of insanity, actor Michael Pitt is uncharacteristically stiff as bow-tied hipster biologist Ian Gray. An unreserved atheist, Ian believes he can disprove religious doctrine through his research into the evolution of the human eye.
Against all odds, he also finds himself caught up in a whirlwind romance with the more spiritually inclined Sofi, played by French actress Astrid Berges-Frisbey. It's a pretty unconvincing pairing to be honest, one that feels more like the result of a screenwriter's scribbling than it does proof of the adage that opposites attract.
In any case, the bulk of the film's thematic conflict — at least initially — plays out in arguments between the two. However thin their romantic connection, the roots of the film's problems lie more in Cahill's dialogue, which is a fatal combination of self-important and dumb. "I believe in proof," says Ian, condescendingly. "Just because you can't see something doesn't mean it isn't there," Sofi responds. Cahill is obviously aiming for a sense of intellectual and spiritual ambiguity. Instead, his characters just sound like children, and fairly annoying ones at that.
A couple of unexpected plot turns see Ian's faith in reason start to falter, as the film shifts from relationship drama to pseudo-scientific thriller. The second half of I Origins is a hell of a lot more engaging than the first, even if it's built on a string of ridiculous coincidences. Or hey, maybe it's divine intervention?
Again, the problem isn't so much the narrative mechanics, but the painfully pompous manner in which they're presented. Plot bombs meant to blow the audience's minds are far more likely to result in groans, or possibly sniggers. Of course, that's assuming you haven't already been put to sleep.
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