★★★★★

There’s concern in some indie quarters that dynamic new filmmakers are being sucked into a studio system that cares not for directorial voice and vision but makes hey with the chewing and spitting of rising talent. Marvel’s Eternals suffocated Chloé Zhao and The Fantastic Four took down Chronicle’s Josh Trank. No such fear can land at the door of Gareth Edwards. Having cut his teeth with the micro-budgeted Monsters, Edwards has spent much of the past decade delivering big on blockbuster budgets. His Rogue One remains the best Star Wars since Darth Vader wasn’t Luke’s father. But now, the circle closes. Originality wins out. There’s no mistaking Edwards’ voice in The Creator, a shining example of what an indie director can do with the trust won from major financiers.

Undoubtedly, the film is an awe-inspiring triumph. A vast and majestic spectacle, in which ideas and visuals coalesce to the benefit of a transcendently engaging experience. This is event cinema at its most thoughtful, benefitting too from an abundance of heart and soul. Much credit here belongs to Edwards’ leading doublet. John David Washington brings mercurial conflict to the role of embittered veteran Sgt. Joshua Taylor, with newcomer Madeleine Yuna Voyles a picture of innocence as the charge he comes to call Alphie. Theirs is an unlikely pairing – she’s a robot, he fights for the side seeking to wipe her mind from the face of the Earth – but grows in poignance through each player’s sympathetic performance. It would be wrong to deem The Creator a bold new leap into hitherto uncharted storytelling but its simplicity well executed.

The sci-fi itself is text book. Certainly, Edwards, and co-writer Chris Weitz, are unabashed in their debt to the likes of Blade Runner, A.I. and Akira. It’s humanity versus artificial intelligence in a dystopian, post-nuclear future. Topical but familiar. The year is an ambitious 2070. Artificial intelligence has advanced to emotive sentience, while prosthetic engineering now enables the replication of markedly lifelike skin. Having come off the worse of a botched undercover operation for the US military operation five years prior, Joshua finds himself drawn once again across enemy borders when it transpires that his fiancé (Gemma Chan’s Maya) may have survived her tragic ‘passing’ in New Asia.

Above the action, a vessel of mass destruction hovers. A gorgeously designed sci-fi ship, armed to the teeth with nuclear armaments. On terra ferma, Nirmata, leader of the AIs, is believed to have built a weapon capable of bringing it down. The weapon may even have the power to end all wars. It would be remiss to give more away but perhaps all is not as might be expected. There’s nuance in the politics, balance even, and the war itself is only one piece in Edwards’ narrative jigsaw. Come for a thrilling presentation of futuristic warfare, stay and remember the film’s devotion to the emotional reality of the world it depicts. A stark and cutting mirror of our own.

Of all film’s genres, science fiction has long been the most astute in recognising mankind’s particular proclivity toward being the architect of its own downfall. It takes organic intelligence to exploit, abuse and exhaust the natural resources of a world tailor made to its needs. Earth is captured here with a delightfully wide eye. There’s a gorgeous bus ride sequence, in which Joshua and Alphie converse against a backdrop loaded with meaning. Rather than pumping millions into the digital creation of computer generated vistas, Edwards instructed camera crews to travel the world in search of readymade beauty. Precious little here is studio work, with Edwards’ approach leaning into thematically apt guerrilla stylisation.

The film is, however, no less captivating for its director’s cost-cutting. There’s breathtaking imaging here and vast cinematic breadth. Mesmerising work from cinematographers Greig Fraser and Oren Soffer do much to enhance the natural beauty of Edwards’ lens, while Hans Zimmer delivers his most stirring work in years to heighten the already overwhelming effect. When the finale lands, the tears fall. It’s quite the emotional ride. There’s no fear here that Edwards’ voice can’t be heard. Loud and clear.

T.S.