52 Films by Women Vol 8. 4. The Pod Generation (Director: Sophie Barthes)

 

Still courtesy of Vertical Entertainment (US)

Writer-director Sophie Barthes veers into Nancy Meyers territory with her futuristic romantic comedy drama, The Pod Generation, which proposes an alternative to the loss of productivity during pregnancy, that is, have the baby in a pod. Those of us with medium memories will recall that in the numerous film versions of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, replica humans fully formed came from pods. They appear to lack their own voices, pointing instead, making them a precursor to MAGA supporters. As co-writer, Meyers covered the subject of balancing pregnancy with work in the comedy, Baby Boom, featuring the memorable line, ‘I can’t have a baby, I have a twelve o’clock lunch meeting’. Here, the question is discussed only in terms of a word count. ‘You wrote 1,858 words today’, an artificial intelligence support voice tells her, as passive aggressive as you expect AI to be. ‘Yes,’ Rachel (Emilia Clarke) might reply, ‘But I’m James Joyce.’

I can only imagine that Barthes’ film, a Belgium-France-UK co-production, was long in gestation, since her view of the future excludes any reference to global warming, religious wars or whether Russia finally rescinded its claim on Ukraine. It is set in an unnamed metropolis where everyone speaks English with an American accent, that is, somewhere in Switzerland. There are no old people, except Rachel’s parents, who appear via video monitor, presumably so that Rachel can check if they are sleeping properly. Rachel is told that her employer has a generous package to support pregnant women, that is, those who prefer an unnatural birth. The womb is outsourced to a company, obviating the side effects of crankiness, morning sickness and difficult journeys on public transport. Moreover, a spot has opened up. Rachel decides to put a downpayment on a pod, without telling her husband, Alvy (Chiwetel Ejiofor). He’s a botanist, so Rachel is told she is the householder’s main breadwinner.

Clarke and Ejiofor make a charming romantic comedy couple and one day their chemistry will be harnessed in a good way. Here, they are divided by Alvy’s profession. He deals with actual plants and maintenance is expensive. There’s a shrub in their marriage. When Alvy places a small tree in the baby’s room, Rachel is uneasy. It’s a real thing. She can only deal with the artificial. Her job is something to do with influencers. Influencing what, we wonder. There are no teenagers. If you want people to want something, make it scarce, like actual laughs. There is one scene in which Rachel takes her pod to work and slams against a glass wall and the audience greets slapstick with relief.

The funniest sequence has Alvy and Rachel watch the moment of conception through a video screen and Barthes realises the potential of her idea. They cheer on the sperm as if it were a striker heading towards the opposition’s goal. One-Nil to the Arsenal, indeed. They don’t appear to have sport in the future, not even video games, so Rachel works while walking on a treadmill, which is as good a metaphor for employment as you’ll ever see. You’ll see it again – and again.

The idea that Bathes enjoys the most is Rachel’s one-eyed therapist, Eliza. That is, a representation of a single eye, set against a flowery background. Therapists should be soothing and neutral, not a cross between a Cyclops and The Secret Garden. Alvy refuses to see Rachel’s therapist because it lacks a consciousness and a soul. Yet he hangs around with plant life – bit of a contradiction. He could talk to the trees, but that would suggest a culture to reference.

In as much as there is conflict, it is around who gets time with the pod. Alvy is seduced by it and talks to it. He’s a botanist. He’s used to speaking to lifeforms that don’t answer. He is told by his employer that his actual plants will be replaced with holograms. He is crestfallen.

Barthes acknowledges her inspiration by having Rachel and Alvy choose what foods to give the pod child during gestation. We are in Tamagotchi territory. You expect there to be a calorie counter on the remote, but I didn’t see it. The couple expose their pod to music, in as much as they have it, and don’t specify the gender of the child during the planning stage.

Still courtesy of Vertical Entertainment (US)

The Pod Generation is a displaced anxiety film, with all the concerns about child development during pregnancy set in a futuristic context. It owes a debt to Woody Allen, acknowledged in the name of Ejiofor’s character (after Alvy Singer in Annie Hall), with particular reference to Sleeper. It may remind viewers more of late career Woody Allen as there are few laughs in it. There is a piece of music that Barthes uses (‘I’ve Found a New Baby’ by Wilbur de Paris) that is featured in Allen’s Oedipus Wrecks segment from New York Stories; Barthes deploys the track when Alvy sneaks the pod out of the company building after he and Rachel opt for a natural birth, which in this case requires a screwdriver. The film closes with Billie Holiday’s ‘God Bless the Child’.

The film’s recurrent mode is passive aggression, exhibited by the Director of the Womb Center (Rosalie Craig) who forbids the couple from keeping the pod during the last days of gestation. ‘The baby is yours, but the pod is ours,’ she tells them. Rachel’s supervisor, who repeatedly leans out of her cubicle to summon Rachel – whatever happened to telephones – is similarly coercive. What happened to the fun colleagues? Rachel’s best friend is played by Vinette Robinson, most recently seen in the TV series Boiling Point, the spin off from the single take film of the same name, set in the kitchen of a London restaurant. Compared with that, giving birth is a doozy.

One gag involves expectant mother Rachel being too tired for sex; it does not matter that the baby is outside her body, she feels the same way. Clarke is a seasoned comedy actresses, with eyebrows that arch upwards like two caterpillars standing on hind legs asking each other to dance. Ejiofor’s brow resembles a crumpled duvet. You wonder how he will be straightened out.

Jean-Marc Barr plays the Head of the company that pioneered artificial conception. The film ends with a gag about the next big leap – children being able to choose their parents. I wondered why Barthes didn’t choose a gag about artificial child minders and how to deal with the real issues regarding caregiving. We’ve heard of helicopter parenting – occasionally dropping in to look after children in short, concentrated stints. How about drone parenting – nappies delivered by mini helicopters. The Pod Generation is hi-tech low-chuckle entertainment, about twenty minutes longer than it needs to be but with the spark of novelty that retains your interest.

 

Reviewed at Stockholm International Film Festival, Sture Cinema, Screen Three, Saturday 18 November 2023, 15:30 screening.