In a near-future, the overlap between technology and biology have developed so much that the genetic composition of plants can be manipulated to the point where they can be used to do nearly everything. This has been the latest project of Alice (Emily Beecham) and Chris (Ben Whishaw), a pair of scientists working for an elite biotechnology company specializing in unique and useful plants that benefit the owners in more ways than simply being aesthetically pleasing. Alice, a divorced single mother trying her best to raise her son (Kit Connor) has developed a plant, tentatively named “Little Joe” (after her son), that requires attention from those who own it, where its survival is based on how much we talk and care for the plant. In exchange, Little Joe will secrete a hormone that simply makes those around it a sense of extreme happiness. However, this euphoria seems to have some troubling side-effects, as Alice comes to notice her colleagues and family that come into contact with the plant seem to change in very strange ways – their behaviour is erratic, and they become fiercely protective of Little Joe, refusing to let anyone harm a single one of these plants. Alice seems to gradually become the only one not affected by whatever it is that is infecting those around her, and she needs to determine what the root of the problem is, or else face losing absolutely everyone she cares for, being the only one left behind in a world that knows something she doesn’t know, despite being the person responsible for this bliss everyone begins to feel.

Jessica Hausner did something absurdly brilliant with Little Joe – she crafted a film derived from the three-stop intersection of the crippling existential terror of Franz Kafka, the profoundly genius speculation of George Orwell, and the bleak social angst of the British kitchen-sink realism movement. Through embracing these and other literary and cinematic inspirations, Hausner was able to craft one of the year’s most original films – a daring science fiction drama that carefully navigates around the realm of horror, being one of the most unsettling works of speculative fiction in years, and just as brilliant as the work done by those who approached an alternative reality in a way that was less about the spectacle, and more about the story underlying it. Little Joe is an astounding film – it takes on some of the fundamental qualities of the human condition with such finesse and elegance, it’s sometimes difficult to conceive that this is ultimately a haunting exploration of an idealistic version of our world, where everything seems so familiar, but is just slightly off to the point where we start to grow uneasy. Hausner makes many bold choices with this film, descending into outright chaos without ever sacrificing the quiet intensity of this intricate, labyrinthine film that manages to weave a complex story without ever becoming convoluted. Far from the archetypal science fiction film that is normally made, the film is a resounding success that feels both intimate and towering, which is always an impressive accomplishment for a work of art like this, where the audience isn’t initially drawn to it, but by the end are utterly captivated. That’s the true brilliance of this film, and proof as to why Little Joe is one of the most compelling films of the past year.

Little Joe is a very different kind of science fiction film. Hausner takes on a challenging topic with such incredible grace, it’s difficult to see this not becoming one of the most enduring works of alternative fiction of the last few years. Removing the trite and cliched conventions of more popular films in the genre, and keeping everything relatively simple, the film indicates a daring descent into narrative territory that feels far bolder than anything being done by bigger films and franchises, where the story is smart and the execution so deft and effortless in how it interprets this version of the world. It’s very disconcerting cinema, where everything we have been led to think is true of social normality is proven to be inverted, with Hausner daring to take on humanity as a whole through a delightfully offbeat piece of contemporary science fiction that feels as authentic as it does intrepid in its portrayal of deeper issues through the veneer of a smart, mature work of speculative storytelling. A descendant of many other seminal works in the genre, but most predominantly evocative of the brilliant work of auteurs like Alex Garland and Shane Carruth, Little Joe feels like the natural successor to the great cerebral science fiction films of the past – and in a cinematic landscape where everyone is striving to recapture the spirit of Kubrick or Tarkovsky in the potent blend of philosophy, humanity and speculation, Hausner does it without even trying, making one of the year’s very best films, and an achievement that will last much longer than most other works in the genre, which are so derivative and predictable, they recede into an endlessly homogenous group of films that may have higher budgets but don’t have an iota of the rebellious creativity Hausner demonstrates in Little Joe.

Little Joe is a film naturally going to be seen as an inherently philosophical work, because so much of this film sees the director venturing towards some deeper meaning underlying the human condition, which is an admirable quality, and one that is hardly done with this kind of sincerity when it comes to science fiction. Hausner somehow manages to blend styles and conventions together from innumerable sources, making them all her own in the process, resulting in something that feels so much more complex than its premise would lead you to believe (and its always a noteworthy achievement when a film manages to not only sell you on the simplicity of the story but also captivate you in how it brings those elements to life throughout the film. Little Joe is certainly a very interesting film, and one that has direct intentions, in the way something as small and audacious as this rarely manages to conjure up in any form more than just through purely hypothetical means. Essentially, Little Joe is the film every burgeoning filmmaker who thinks they have an interest in science fiction would want to make – some of them surrendered themselves to the desire and tries to do make something along these lines, while others kept it merely to themselves, restricting it to the realm of unrealized ideas that become less insightful the longer they simmer in the mind of the filmmakers who lack the desire to commit this kind of smart but polarizing storytelling to the screen. Hausner dismisses nearly everything to do with the preconceived notions of the genre, and it benefits the viewer to do exactly the same, because instead of challenging the well-taut fundamentals of science fiction, she breaks it down completely herself and rebuilds it from the beginning, resulting in the rare science fiction film that feels informed more by the authenticity of the underlying interactions rather than the basic story that, had it been done by someone without the command of her craft, may have been more accessible, but far less effective.

Despite being a work of profoundly brilliant science fiction, Little Joe is fundamentally a human film, with Hausner touching on the human condition with a frank sincerity rarely witnessed from many films that present us with alternative versions of reality. If there is a flaw in this film, it is that it tries to package so much subtext into its relatively straightforward storyline, some of it unfortunately goes to waste, especially because it could’ve amounted to some really compelling excursions into modern existence and the role individuals play in creating a certain environment. However, Hausner’s decision to make Little Joe a character-driven piece compensates for some of these challenges, especially when the film features Emily Beecham giving a truly mesmerizing performance as the protagonist, a woman learning that good intentions sometimes harbour adverse effects, especially when they’re taken out of context and turned into something that can cause more damage than good, by no intentional fault of her own. Beecham, along with Ben Whishaw (who is rapidly using his supreme talents to carve a place for him alongside some of cinema’s great character actors), gives a truly compelling performance, testing the boundaries of humanity in a controlled but memorable way. Whishaw in particular has a certain quality that allows him to play both sides of the character – the lovesick romantic who overcomes his insecurities to profess his love for a woman he adores, and a sinister villain who holds no regard for anyone other than himself, especially when it comes to protecting what he holds dear. The ensemble of Little Joe is very strong, with each actor being given the chance to slowly descend into a euphoric lunacy, which results in some daring choices on the part o these performers, who relish in the opportunity to play interesting characters that are equal parts good and evil.

The approach Little Joe takes to its story is what lingers most prominently – the banality of everyday life is used as a way of propelling this story forward, giving it a quality that evokes insatiable curiosity – there’s a great deal of tension that flows throughout the film, the kind that comes from knowing something is lurking just out of view without actually having the fearlessness to find out, waiting patiently for it to reveal itself. It lends the film a mysterious kind of seduction, which pervades the film and keeps the audience truly captivated as we slowly journey through this version of the world that Hausner concocts with such ferocious elegance. Its a hypnotizing story about society, one that isn’t quite sure whether it presents us with a utopian or dystopian image, but being comfortable in the knowledge that its tale of social upheaval is what will keep as interested. This is where Hausner employs kitchen-sink realism, because below the dazzling colours and simple but effective technological prowess, there’s a modesty to Little Joe in how it tells the story. It keeps everything on the profoundly visceral level, never using the idea of otherworldly entities as a scapegoat for the story – the entire emotional arc of the film is based around the tendency for our species to blame the changing world on absolutely anything other than ourselves – Hausner seems to quietly be commenting on environmental issues in a way that isn’t overt, but rather carefully placed, to get the message across about the human tendency to take on the role of gods by manipulating nature, and that we will face the consequences. This manifests in the story of one woman apparently being immune to charms of her own creation, watching in passive horror as those around her descend into insanity as a result of accidental curiosity. We never quite figure out who it was that changed in Little Joe – logically, the film tells us of a genetic mutation that causes those around Alice to change. The question is whether it was the others who changed, or the protagonist herself. Mental health is another one of the many topics Hausner doesn’t get to explore fully, and while it isn’t necessary to enjoying this film, it does mean some potentially fascinating narrative avenues related to this remain unexplored.

If the compelling story wasn’t enough, Hausner manages to captivate the audience through a daringly complex use of the visual medium to explore these themes. Perhaps not initially very impressive on a technical scale (with the cold, arid appearance of the film being quite stark), Little Joe slowly becomes more striking the deeper we venture into it. The two main modalities that the director makes use of are colour and sound, two components of filmmaking that are rarely given this kind of attention. The film has a distinct visual palette, with Hausner making use of many different hues to bring this film alive, especially those not always associated with what they represent here – whether it be the light green laboratory coats, or the intense neon lights that illuminate the plants, they create a sense of unease. The sumptuous colours complement the bleak story and create a psychological imbalance – everything seems to inconceivably upsetting, yet it all looks so strikingly beautiful. This is also contrasted with the sound – the film starts with relative silence, with an almost deafening tranquillity welcoming us into a film that we already know is going to take on on a strange journey. As it progresses, the growing use of high-frequency sounds creates a sense of paranoia, where escape seems almost impossible, especially because the further we run, the more piercing the sounds. There aren’t many films that depend so much on the atmosphere being set by colour and sound, which makes this film all the more effective, because the work that went into evoking a certain mood complements a story that could have been either too convoluted or pretentious had it come from someone who didn’t know that the best way to approach this kind of story is through keeping everything at the fundamentally human level.

Hausner seems to relish in making a film that is a steadfast assault on the sense, which is all the more effective considering how relatively simple the execution is here – this film is proof that higher budgets don’t always equate to effective filmmaking, as its incredibly clear throughout Little Joe that even the most paltry means can result in something extraordinarily compelling. Little Joe is an uncategorizable work – its a moving character drama about finding yourself in a world populated by people you are starting to realize have changed, but also a complex science fiction thriller that feels remarkably human, despite the film taking us to some truly unexpected places. It’s truly astonishing filmmaking, and a film that may not make a bold entrance, but lingers with you for much longer than other films in the genre. It’s more heartfelt than most dramas, more fascinating than most works of speculative fiction, scarier than the majority of recent horrors, and a truly memorable work of unmitigated, chaotic genius, and just an exemplification of the brilliance that comes with an ambitious story and the dedication to execute it to sheer perfection.