District 9
review by Matthew Rodgers
Every so often a film can invade the cultural psyche of a predominantly bland multiplex landscape, and District 9 is one such film. A “prawn” cocktail of innovative filmmaking techniques fused with old-fashioned storytelling, an obvious social commentary, and enough nods and winks to the classics it lovingly borrows from to avoid being cliché.
District 9 refers to an area of Johannesburg that has housed a species of alien, derogatorily named “prawns”, ever since they arrived on Earth two decades ago. Beginning as a potted history faux documentary that charts the volatile co-existence between human and alien, “if they were from another country we might understand, but they’re not even from this planet” comes the subtle as a sledgehammer soundbite from one Joburg resident. It soon morphs into a slum based thriller telling the story of government penpusher Wikus (Sharlto Copley), a munitions operative recently infected with an alien compound, and the parallel plight of a father and son prawn attempting to save their race.
If this sounds ridiculous then worry not, director Blomkamp, under the wing[nut] of Peter Jackson’s production guidance, manages a very successful equilibrium of tongue in cheek and serious Sci-Fi.
When on its obvious soapboax the film offers themes and aesthetics that make it more akin to an episode of The Wire. For example, the door to door interrogations of the military in a foreign land, looking for weapons that may or may not be there. Where have we heard that before? It is a melting pot of observations that range from apartheid to Abu Ghraib.
With that in mind this is also a film in which the main alien is brilliantly named Christopher Johnson, and there is enough blood, Cronenburg style body horror, and fantastically inventive set pieces that enjoyment is guaranteed. The flourishes of special effects, in particular the use of a robotic suit of armour for the heroic finale, belie the $30m budget and put two hour toy adverts such as GI Joe to shame.
At its core though, much like most of the genre classics, is a simplistic story of someone trying to get home, one that you could easily imagine James Cameron or Ridley Scott crafting at the embryonic stages of their careers.
It’s good then that we have two very different but equally brilliant leads with which to take that journey. One is charming South African producer-turned-actor Copley, something of an office pointdexter before his situation dictates that you might actually start to like this guy. The other is a CGI creation that effectively evokes sympathy for his plight; this might also be down to his undeniably cute kid (for a bug-eyed scaly shrimp that is).
For better or worse, District 9 will not match your preconceptions as the lights go down. It is a rare hybrid, with glimpses of originality and bundles of allegory that will stimulate a think-tank that’s gone rusty in the summer months, but it will still excite more than clunking great robots whacking eachother for hours, and hours, and hours.
