The Unintentional Brilliance of “Immortel: Ad Vitam”
Sometimes, the most profound insights come from the most unexpected places. Enki Bilal’s “Immortel: Ad Vitam” (also known as “The Immortals”) is one of those films that, on the surface, seems like pure spectacle, but beneath its visually stunning exterior lies a surprisingly deep commentary. While it might be tempting to dissect it through a Marxist lens, it’s more interesting to note how it stands apart from, yet alongside, other sci-fi ventures like Spielberg’s “Minority Report,” John Woo’s “Paycheck,” Rodriguez’s “Spy Kids 3-D,” and even the “Matrix” franchise. In terms of sheer style, Bilal, a French filmmaker of Slavic origin, is rivaled only by Mamoru Oshii’s “Avalon,” but he surpasses it in the scope of his science fiction vision.
It’s almost as if Bilal is reinventing the very foundations of cinema, pushing the boundaries of what’s possible. Back in 2000, the idea of bringing such a complex and visually ambitious project to life seemed almost impossible.
However, it’s precisely this blend of high-tech spectacle and deeply personal vision that might represent the future of cinema. The film is set in 2095, two centuries after the birth of cinema, in a decaying, three-dimensionally rendered New York City. Humanity has achieved immortality, but at the cost of becoming zombie-like beings dependent on organ transplants and skin grafts. The Eugenics Corporation reigns supreme, having even conquered alien forces. But the corporation’s leader soon faces a series of bizarre events: a serial killer on the loose, a mysterious pyramid hovering over the city, and capsules containing sleeping prisoners falling from a space-based prison. What follows is a thrilling blend of mystery, science fiction, melodrama, and comedy that keeps you hooked from start to finish.
A New Cosmogony
Unlike typical futuristic comics that focus on isolated issues or pure entertainment (“Blade,” “Daredevil,” “Spider-Man”), “Immortel” dares to create a new cosmogony. It’s not about specific problems, but about the overall worldview that civilization has largely ignored throughout the 20th century, leading to a rather bleak state of affairs in the 21st. Bilal succeeds in creating this cosmogony by adapting his own comics (“The Carnival of Immortals,” “La Femme Piège”), adding a montage of attractions to his personal cultural context, and seamlessly blending high-tech elements with his unique artistic vision.
Decoding the Future
The first twenty minutes might leave you disoriented, but soon you’ll be captivated by the film’s unique style, the compatibility of skepticism and happy endings, and the unexpected arrival of Egyptian gods in 2095. Anubis and Bastet reside in the pyramid, while Horus is sent to Earth. Who else would come to a decaying civilization but the gods of an ancient civilization with direct ties to the cosmos? Aliens remain mere pop culture figures, but the Egyptian gods retain their mystery. The Christian God, on the other hand, has withdrawn from civilization, offering no help. This is fitting, as the mystery of the Christian God remains unsolved. The film’s superheroes, an alien woman and a escaped prisoner, are well-developed characters who can investigate murders, fight monsters, engage in sex, and transform into unimaginable beings. Thomas Kretschmann (Nikopol) and Linda Hardy (Jill) deliver excellent performances. Hardy is a true supermodel, and Kretschmann is charismatic, having played a surprisingly sympathetic SS officer in “The Pianist.” Charlotte Rampling is also perfectly cast, bringing an aura of timeless mystery to her role.
Subtlety and Satire
The film’s humor is subtle and understated. The film doesn’t hold your hand, but rewards those who pay attention to the details. Who else but Jill-Malvina, with her blue hair, could be one of the few women in the universe capable of bearing a god’s child? Who else but the Tin Man-like Nikopol could save Malvina? What else would they drink in this cinematic world (“Metropolis,” “M,” “King Kong,” “Stalker,” “The City of Lost Children,” and even “The Fifth Element”) but Tarkovsky vodka? What else would they speak but the poetry of Baudelaire, who diagnosed the ills of modern civilization in the preface to “The Flowers of Evil” a century and a half ago? The film is filled with recognizable details, from the Bosch-like servants to the floating electric texts. It’s remarkable how this “otherworld” grows out of today’s reality, suggesting that it is still viable.
Imperfections and Openness
The film’s only flaws are the occasional vulgar image and the slightly underdeveloped high-tech elements. However, these imperfections add to the film’s diversity, making the lack of stylistic unity a key element.
“Immortel” is an open, dialogic world that invites the audience to participate in something new. This approach justifies the film’s imperfections and sets it apart from Bilal’s previous, more traditional sci-fi films (“Bunker Palace Hôtel,” “Tykho Moon”). Its budget of 22 million euros seems more impressive than many films with budgets exceeding 220 million dollars.