I think possibly one of the greatest gifts, and somehow at the same time greatest curses of being a human being, is the ability to dream. It gives us the ability to strive for greatness and provides escapism when we need it, but at the same time, it comes with the dichotomy of always being able to yearn for more, and perhaps under-value what we have. It allows us to believe our lives can become something great, but it also allows space for the feeling that our normal life will never be enough. When you start to think about it too much, it all gets very existential and the head starts to hurt a bit, but I think what I found so powerful about 'Mankind' is how it captures that entire complex dichotomy in such a short runtime.
The whole back and forth between these two men feels like it could be a back and forth inside one person's own mind over whether to go through with this decision, and simultaneously be like the whole of humanity debating whether this is something we should be doing, regardless of whether or not we can. It's both vast and existential, and somehow at the same time incredibly intimate and personal.
What I possibly enjoyed most about it though, is the fact that the film never tries to push the audience to side with either these two. You can see where both are coming from, and you can see where both is perhaps putting his own interests first. You can understand the pain and the emotion both feel about his respective uncertainty about this bomb that's landed in the middle of their relationship, and the question of what this means for the life they had planned. It's raw, and it's human, and on top of that, I feel like I should add that it's an incredibly visually stunning piece of filmmaking.
I will also quickly say, it's so great to see films with LGBTQ+ representation where the characters' being LGBTQ+ is not the main focus of the narrative conflict - something cinema could do with a lot more of.
The whole back and forth between these two men feels like it could be a back and forth inside one person's own mind over whether to go through with this decision, and simultaneously be like the whole of humanity debating whether this is something we should be doing, regardless of whether or not we can. It's both vast and existential, and somehow at the same time incredibly intimate and personal.
What I possibly enjoyed most about it though, is the fact that the film never tries to push the audience to side with either these two. You can see where both are coming from, and you can see where both is perhaps putting his own interests first. You can understand the pain and the emotion both feel about his respective uncertainty about this bomb that's landed in the middle of their relationship, and the question of what this means for the life they had planned. It's raw, and it's human, and on top of that, I feel like I should add that it's an incredibly visually stunning piece of filmmaking.
I will also quickly say, it's so great to see films with LGBTQ+ representation where the characters' being LGBTQ+ is not the main focus of the narrative conflict - something cinema could do with a lot more of.