Alfonso Cuarón has made multiple great films, but few reach the level of 2006’s Children of Men. Join us for this month’s Cover Story as we break down why Children of Men is Cuarón’s magnum opus.
About thirty minutes into Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men, we are in a car with the film’s protagonist, Theo (Clive Owen); his love interest, Julian (Julianne Moore); the film’s centerpiece, Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey); and key players Luke (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Miriam (Pam Ferris). Instead of the standard various camera angles often used in films, Cuarón does something magical to immerse us, the audience, in the vehicle with these five characters.
Instead of using multiple takes focusing on individual characters, Cuarón employs a special rig built into the middle of the car, engulfing us in the activities within the vehicle in a single continuous take. As we ride along with these individuals, we experience everything without interruption, including a sequence where Theo and Julian pass a ping pong ball back and forth, requiring the actors to perform a kind of magic in their acting. This long car ride culminates in Julian’s shocking death and an intense car chase sequence, a sequence from which we never leave the car.
Cuarón’s long take serves a purpose: it builds tension in a powerful and unexpected way. This custom rig places us in the middle of the car, making us part of the jokes, the game, and ultimately the action as it unfolds.
This take is over six minutes long. By the time the first motorcycle approaches the vehicle, we, as an audience, are so entrenched in the scene that we feel as if it is our vehicle. We are essentially sitting in the middle seat, unable to take a breath without stepping outside.
This is just one of the many ways Children of Men (2006) establishes its greatness. It also offers a glimpse into why Children of Men is acclaimed filmmaker Alfonso Cuarón’s masterpiece. Why this is Cuarón’s magnum opus.
A magnum opus is, by definition, a large and important work of art, music, or literature, specifically one regarded as the most significant work of an artist or writer.
In addition to Children of Men, Cuarón has written and directed many films, including 2013’s Gravity and 2018’s Roma—both highly acclaimed films that often earn praise from casual film fans.
So my claim that Children of Men is not just the best film he has made to date, but likely the best film he’ll ever make, is significant.
The aforementioned car scene is just one of many masterful moments in this dystopian dramatic action-thriller that didn’t even earn an Oscar nomination for Best Picture.
Based on the novel of the same name, Children of Men takes place in 2027. It’s been approximately two decades since the last human child was born in the world. This human infertility is just one factor driving society to the brink of collapse. With many of the world’s most powerful nations having crumbled, people from across the globe seek refuge in the United Kingdom, where they are subjected to detention and refoulement by the government. Theo (Owen) is an obedient civil servant who finds himself pulled back into the activist underworld by his ex, Julian (Moore), who needs his help getting Kee (Ashitey) out of the UK and to the Human Project.
Much like the scene we just analyzed, and many others we will explore, both Cuarón and P.D. James (the author of the book) make decisions that pull the audience in as characters ourselves. Why Kee seeks refuge, who we can and can’t trust, the government’s role in everyone’s day-to-day lives, and even what has happened to the fallen nations are either slowly uncovered as Theo or others figure these key plot points out, or are kept from us, leaving us in the dark throughout much of the film.
Leaving us in the dark through key plot points—either through significant moments or throughout the film—is done with incredible intent. If Theo doesn’t know, why should the audience? Theo’s discoveries, or lack thereof, become our discoveries.
For the sake of this article, it’s important to know that Kee is with child, becoming the first pregnant person in twenty years—a fact Theo doesn’t learn until each character’s role in the film is well established.
While Cuarón’s decisions are deliberate, not everything that works in this movie is intentional.
In another long take, approximately four and a half minutes, the camera gets splattered with fake blood while following an army through a brutalized refugee camp. This was not by design. When this happened, director Alfonso Cuarón yelled “cut,” only to have his command drowned out by yelling, gunfire, and tanks. Yes, actual tanks.
This unexpected mishap ended up being a blessing, however, as the blood-splattered lens captivated critics and audiences alike, generating conversation and articles for years after Children of Men’s initial release. This accidental splatter added an extra dimension to the film, bringing the audience closer to the action depicted in that take.
While the long scenes are meant to immerse us in the moments of Children of Men, it’s the masterful editing, timing, and these key little happy accidents that make those moments feel real.
But in nearly a thousand words, I have yet to specify a reason that makes Children of Men Alfonso Cuarón’s magnum opus. And that’s because a masterpiece cannot be created due to a single reason.
Throughout its one hour and forty-nine-minute runtime, Children of Men offers sequence after sequence and moment after moment of well-thought-out perfection, accidental beauty, and riveting performances. The two scenes we’ve dissected are just examples of what this nearly two-hour journey is filled with.
Kee doesn’t reach the Human Project pregnant. She has her baby during the film while she and Theo are hiding in a refugee camp building that is heavily under attack.
This moment becomes one of the most impactful not just in Children of Men, but in film history. The rolling tanks stop. The echoing gunfire ceases. The loud bangs give way to silent stares. Enemies stand side by side in awe. Activists and the military are struck dumb as we walk with Kee past countless shocked, inspired, confused, and excited individuals.
The scene is perfect. And it immediately follows the perfect blood-splattered scene, which came after another amazing moment, and so on, and so forth.
Cuarón does nothing wrong in making this film.
As noted, although Children of Men received some award recognition, it didn’t earn nods for the biggest categories. There were no Oscar nominations for acting or directing, and the film did not receive any Best Picture nominations throughout awards season. It earned three Oscar nominations—one each for Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Cinematography, and Best Film Editing—all well-deserved, as the writing, cinematography, and editing make Children of Men brilliant. However, it only received one of those awards, with four of its six trophies given for cinematography alone.
This is important to note because it underscores that the industry doesn’t always get it right when it comes to recognition. Following 2005, the guilds and associations clearly missed the mark.
Children of Men is a depressing tale crafted in an extraordinary package. Although Alfonso Cuarón’s filmography is still young and he has a long career ahead of him, Children of Men made it abundantly clear that he is a masterful filmmaker. Every decision he made was carefully considered and curated, creating a movie I can watch repeatedly, always discovering more to praise and respect each time.
