Don’t Look Up, the latest celluloid offering from the writer-director Adam McKay, has become Netflix’s top film globally despite dividing critics and viewers.
The film, a satire in which two scientists played by Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence attempt to warn an indifferent world about a comet that threatens to destroy the planet, is an intentional allegory of the climate crisis.
Despite a stellar cast also featuring Meryl Streep, Cate Blanchett, Mark Rylance, Jonah Hill and Timothee Chalamet, the movie has received a frosty reception from many film critics.
Photo: AP
But the lukewarm critical reception contrasts sharply with the response from the film’s allegorical heroes: climate scientists and activists.
David Ritter, chief executive of Greenpeace Asia Pacific, says he was struck by the sense of desperation portrayed by the film’s scientists, finding the parallel with the climate crisis “very, very powerful.”
“There are tens or hundreds of thousands of people across the world who are scientists, activists, campaigners … giving their lives to this work,” Ritter said. “The sheer number of people who have asked me ... what is wrong with our political leaders that they do not understand?”
Photo: AP
Prof Matthew England, co-founder of the Climate Change Research Centre at the University of New South Wales, said Don’t Look Up was a “brilliant film.”
“It parodies our inaction to tackle climate change beautifully well, especially in relation to conservative government and the mainstream media,” England says. “I loved it and I understand a lot of climate scientists have the same reaction, whereas the mainstream media perhaps is feeling defensive because it is part of what is attacked in the film.”
Daniel Bleakley, a Melbourne-based climate activist, agreed, saying he hoped the “fantastic film” would draw attention to media reporting of the climate crisis.
“If we really want the broad public to start understanding the seriousness and urgency of the climate crisis, we need our media to be communicating it effectively.”
Bleakley said the film articulated a sense among climate activists of having their messages fall on deaf ears over many years.
“I have heard from a number of activists that after watching the film, they’ve felt heard, they’ve felt recognized.
“As activists and as climate scientists who truly understand the gravity and the seriousness and the urgency of the climate crisis — and the fact that every day counts — it’s almost surreal when you walk around in the world and see people going about their daily lives like everything’s completely normal.”
Ritter disagrees with criticism that the film lacks nuance.
“When someone says it was really heavy-handed, what were they talking about?” he asks.
“Were they talking about the subtle depiction of the way in which vested interests can institutionally corrupt the public good? Were they talking about the threat of unconstrained techno-optimistic capitalism?”
“The use of the scenes of chaos and drama interspersed with the interaction of characters in a more quiet, reflective mode … I thought it was particularly striking and evocative of how one experiences a world that is grappling with the climate crisis.”
“Don’t listen to the reviews,” Ritter added. “Watch the film — make your own mind up.”
The Guardian’s critics have described the film as a “ labored, self-conscious and unrelaxed satire,” and a “toothless comedy” that comes from a “position of lofty superiority that would drive away any partisans who still need to be won over.”
US President Donald Trump may have hoped for an impromptu talk with his old friend Kim Jong-un during a recent trip to Asia, but analysts say the increasingly emboldened North Korean despot had few good reasons to join the photo-op. Trump sent repeated overtures to Kim during his barnstorming tour of Asia, saying he was “100 percent” open to a meeting and even bucking decades of US policy by conceding that North Korea was “sort of a nuclear power.” But Pyongyang kept mum on the invitation, instead firing off missiles and sending its foreign minister to Russia and Belarus, with whom it
When Taiwan was battered by storms this summer, the only crumb of comfort I could take was knowing that some advice I’d drafted several weeks earlier had been correct. Regarding the Southern Cross-Island Highway (南橫公路), a spectacular high-elevation route connecting Taiwan’s southwest with the country’s southeast, I’d written: “The precarious existence of this road cannot be overstated; those hoping to drive or ride all the way across should have a backup plan.” As this article was going to press, the middle section of the highway, between Meishankou (梅山口) in Kaohsiung and Siangyang (向陽) in Taitung County, was still closed to outsiders
Many people noticed the flood of pro-China propaganda across a number of venues in recent weeks that looks like a coordinated assault on US Taiwan policy. It does look like an effort intended to influence the US before the meeting between US President Donald Trump and Chinese dictator Xi Jinping (習近平) over the weekend. Jennifer Kavanagh’s piece in the New York Times in September appears to be the opening strike of the current campaign. She followed up last week in the Lowy Interpreter, blaming the US for causing the PRC to escalate in the Philippines and Taiwan, saying that as
The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has a dystopian, radical and dangerous conception of itself. Few are aware of this very fundamental difference between how they view power and how the rest of the world does. Even those of us who have lived in China sometimes fall back into the trap of viewing it through the lens of the power relationships common throughout the rest of the world, instead of understanding the CCP as it conceives of itself. Broadly speaking, the concepts of the people, race, culture, civilization, nation, government and religion are separate, though often overlapping and intertwined. A government