A small crew of astronauts weigh up whether the human race is worth saving from impending extinction in Rubikon, a timely eco-apocalypse science-fiction thriller from young Austrian first-time feature director Magdalena Lauritsch. Featuring impressively slick visual effects given its obviously modest budget, this female-led project is a commendably ambitious debut, a philosophically slanted meditation on morality and mortality clothed in the familiar genre tropes of a future-shock disaster movie. But it is also frustratingly underpowered as drama, chiefly because of a flat script and emotionally limited cast, who pour cold water on a high-stakes plot that should be bursting with edge-of-seat tension.
Following its European premiere at Karlovy Vary International Film Festival this week, Rubikon should pick up play at other specialist sci-fi and genre festivals ahead of domestic launch in September. It was released online in North America last week, with the UK to follow next week. English-language dialogue and glossy production values should ease its journey to fan-friendly outlets and streaming platforms.
Set in 2056, Rubikon takes place on board a space station in orbit around an increasingly uninhabitable Earth, which has been catastrophically polluted by reckless mega-corporations. Protected by private armies, the rich live inside high-security oxygen domes while the poor struggle to survive outside. But there is hope on board the Rubikon in the form of geneticist Dmitri (veteran Ukrainian actor Mark Ivanir), who has developed an experimental algae that can regenerate oxygen from sewage and household waste. The ship’s international crew also includes Gavin (George Blagden), a mentally fragile British astronaut with eco-activist sympathies, and stern Teutonic soldier Hannah, played by gamine-haired beauty Julia Franz Richter, who looks uncannily like Mia Farrow circa Rosemary’s Baby here.
But the Rubikon crew’s ethically tangled mission to save humankind may be too little, too late. Before they can ship any life-saving algae back to Earth, a mysterious toxic fog engulfs the planet, killing all but a few hundred survivors with only limited oxygen supplies. Hannah, Dmitri and Gavin are faced with an agonising choice between remaining safely in orbit or embarking on a high-risk trip back home to try and save the wealthy oligarchs who caused this disaster in the first place. All three have a personal stake in the decision, torn between self-interest and self-sacrifice, not to mention the chance of rescuing their own loved ones. Heated debate becomes a fiery battle of wills, with secret orders and sabotage fanning the flames.
For a film that features near-miss space crashes, clandestine military-industrial plots, unexpected pregnancy, suicide attempts, exploding spaceships and – lest we forget – an extinction level event which may spell doom for all humankind, Rubikon is frustratingly low on actual thrills. This is partly because most of the main disaster-movie plot occurs off screen, a decision clearly dictated by budget limitations. But also because the performances are stiff and affectless, with Richter in particular struggling to inject passion into English-language dialogue as a non-native speaker. It may be the end of the world, but it feels more like a sulky Covid lockdown with ill-matched house-mates. In space, nobody can hear you yawn.
In its favour, Rubikon does boast gleamingly beautiful cinematrogaphy from Xiaosu Han and Andreas Thalhammer, an immersively lovely electro-ambient score by Wolf-Maximilian Liebich and Damiel Helmer, some brief but dazzling outer-space visual effects sequences, and plenty of sexy-sleek production design. In the future, it seems, everyone will wear figure-hugging deluxe knitwear. A scene in which Hannah transforms the space station’s control room into a throbbing Eurodisco dance club is also a pleasing tonal twist. More of these witty, irreverent, very human touches might have saved Rubikon from sinking so deep into flat-footed, heavy-handed, self-serious torpor. But in fairness, for all its first-feature shortcomings, Lauritsch has made a bold and ambitious debut that points to a potentially starry future career. To infinity and beyond, or maybe just Hollywood.
Venue: Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (Special Screenings)
Cast: Julia Franz Richter, George Blagden, Mark Ivanir
Director: Magdalena Lauritsch
Screenplay: Jessica Lind, Magdalena Lauritsch
Cinematography: Xiaosu Han, Andreas Thalhammer
Music: Wolf-Maximilian Liebich, Damiel Helmer
Editing: Christoph Loidl, Anna Heuss
Art director: Johannes Mücke
Producers: Loredana Rehekampff, Andreas Schmied, Klaus Graf
Production companies: Samsara Filmproduktion GmbH (Austria), Graf Filmproduktion GmbH (Austria)
Sales company: The Playmaker, Munich
In English, German
110 minutes
