Starring Tim Robbins, Samantha Morton

Directed by Michael Winterbottom

In 2077, the world is ‘inside’ in high density cities or ‘outside’ in concentration camps. William Geld (Tim Robbins), an insurance investigator from the New USA is sent to Shanghai to investigate the forging of ‘papeles’, the bio passports that let people move from place to place. Maria Gonzalez (Samantha Morton) is the forger. They fall in love, and in doing so discover they’re breaking Code 46, a rule forbidding people with any genetic relationship to be together.

Written by Frank Cottrell Boyce, who would go on to write the excellent Millions and two of my favourite recent Doctor Who episodes (‘In the Forest of the Night’ and ‘Smile’) and directed by Michael Winterbottom of the superb 24 Hour Party People, Code 46 is an early ’00s curiosity that’s washed ashore on BBC iPlayer. It’s notable for all sorts of reasons, the most obvious of which is the staggeringly good cast. Robbins is always excellent and has some fun playing against type here as a man who is also playing against type. Boyce does some great worldbuilding here and the movie dives into one idea in particular; emotional enhancement and suppression via virus. William, when we first meet him, has infected himself with an empathy virus to help with his job. He’s smooth, almost supernaturally aware of what people are thinking and that makes him a threat in a way that maps onto his trajectory across the movie. He starts as a man in a suit, the embodiment of authority empowered by the virus. He finishes with that virus slamming doors it used to open as the story he’s telling himself about who he is changes completely.

Morton is excellent too, her natural strength and presence elevating a character who starts dangerously close to a slightly dystopian magical girl. Maria knows she wants more, William has no idea what he wants, and the movie does its best work exploring the evolution of their relationship. The truth about that Code 46 violation spins the axis of the relationship around and allows Boyce to dive into the most intimate, yet cold, horrific exploration of dystopia. Displaced populations and the casual way they’re dehumanised by sociopathic governments is a depressingly timely topic right now and it’s a cold realisation that Code 46 is slightly less science fiction than it used to be. Or should be.

But the script also orbits one scene that I honestly don’t know how to think about. You could write a full essay about it as we follow Maria and William as they flee into the ‘outside’ and discover the cost their relationship has. Maria has been infected with something that triggers a specific hostile reaction to Will at this point but encourages him to have sex anyway. They do, and what follows is a scene where Maria’s mind and body are reacting entirely differently to one another. It’s very uncomfortable to watch, and is designed that way, as issues of consent, choice and bodily autonomy collide with iconography that is saying something very different to the scene itself. It’s uncomfortable, defiant, hopeful as the pair of them dance along a very thin line.

The rest of the cast is equally impressive and there’s a parade of future greats in small roles here. Nina Wadia, Essie Davis, Archie Panjabi and Benedict Wong all excel and there’s a surprise cameo from Mick Jones of The Clash as, it’s implied, himself.

Winterbottom’s direction is both a stage for his cast and script to shine and a lens to focus them through. The movie is reminiscent of one of my all-time favourites, Wim Wenders’ Until The End of the World and has the same sense of being set everywhere but nowhere. It also has the same intimate, bleak feel, people grabbing moments when they can between the vast wheels of the siege engines that run the world. That leads to an ending which is hard to watch but hard to watch in the same way as the end of Brazil. Survival as victory, even if it’s the only victory we get.

Verdict: Code 46 is mannered for sure and arguably a little pretentious, but it’s also got a resonant voice all its own. I missed it the first time through and I’m glad I got the chance to catch it now. 8/10

Alasdair Stuart

 

Code 46 is on iPlayer now.