Film Review - Foe (2023)

The status of the world and its relationship with technology has always been a point of contention but in recent years it has been at its most feverish and fervent. Aside from our ever-increasing reliance on it for our new day-to-day routines – banking, surfing, TikTok-ing, and the like – it has become a big sticking point for the SAG-AFTRA actors’ strike, particularly the advancement of “deep fake” and its ability to replicate people’s faces and body language. Would the use of such technology skew the viewing experience forever? Would actors soon become obsolete? And are we slowly moving towards James Cameron’s nightmarish vision of a cyborg from the future covered in human flesh helping to bring about nuclear war? Well, Garth Davis’ new vision of a potential future, while not directly linked to such possible outcomes, does raise more about where the species might be heading and the personal conflicts they might ignite.

Set in the not-too-distant future, Foe tells the story of married couple Henrietta (Saoirse Ronan) and Junior (Paul Mescal) who live on a secluded farm after much of the Earth has been decimated by climate change. Their relationship has become somewhat strained and is tested further when a stranger, Terrance (Aaron Pierre), arrives at their house with a proposal: Junior has been chosen to spend two years on one of humanity’s space stations to remain for two years but, while he is absent, Henrietta will be cared for by an android/biomechanical robot that is an almost exact duplicate of her real husband. Struggling to make their decision, they are thrown into more turmoil when Terrance moves in with them to research and monitor them so that the robot replacement will be perfect.

Immediately, what strikes you most about Davis’ new frontier is how current and relatable it is: no spaceships floating overhead, no vast metropolis aglow with neon as screens appear as if by magic in front of you, nor are there robots/androids/cyborgs catering to your every need. No, this future is very much of the present, purposefully set amongst the protagonists and their impossible choice rather than the spaces (literally) outside the window. This is very much produced in the structure of a play, a three-hander set in rooms and four walls rather than the vastness of what is up above them, almost taking a page out of the original conceit for Blade Runner by screenwriter Hampton Fancher before Ridley Scott wondered what was outside the window.

Consequences, choice, change, and much more are mulled over as Henrietta and Junior flit from love to rage and everything in between while faced with their impossible dilemma. Davis, known for pulling at the heartstrings in previous films Lion and Mary Magdalene, does much the same here – which, when you have the might of Ronan, Mescal, and Pierre at your disposal, you’d expect nothing less – but ultimately falls short. The conceit crumbles after its promising opening hour, becoming too cloying and melodramatic for its own good and struggling to make its thoughtful and cautionary tale as dramatic and thought-provoking as it should be.

Then, when things begin to unravel, the finale rears its head and the wheels really fall off: we won’t spoil anything here as it could still stir some extreme reactions on both sides of the coin, but many of the choices made here feel misguided. Frankly, it’s infuriating that not only were these the final decisions made but that the filmmakers thought its audience wouldn’t be smart enough to draw their own conclusions and put the right pieces together instead of having everything explained to the nth degree. A little more trust and faith in those watching and engaged with what is something of a hot potato in of its narrative and its prevalent themes would have gone a long way to turning a solid film into a really exemplary one.