TIFF24 REVIEW: Ти – Космос [U Are the Universe] [20XX]

Rating: NR | Runtime: 90 minutes
Director(s): Pavlo Ostrikov
Writer(s): Pavlo Ostrikov

Can I tell you a joke then?

Two years there. Two years back. Andriy (Volodymyr Kravchuk) has been piloting a long-haul spacecraft for a decade now—flying out to Jupiter’s moon Callisto to send Earth’s nuclear waste towards its surface before flying back to do it again. He’s never been much of a people person, so the isolation never bothered him. He sculpts plasticine to pass the time, listens to his records, and plays chess with the ship’s AI robot Maxim (Leonid Popadko). There’s no reason for him to take a break because he enjoys the quiet of space. But when a bright light blasts through his windows only for Maxim to explain Earth exploded, Andriy wants nothing more than to go back.

Well. Maybe not at first.

Pavlo Ostrikov’s U Are the Universe follows up this devastating news by showing Andriy getting drunk on medicine and dancing. He’s not celebrating the demise of his species. He’s probably just in shock. But he cannot help embracing the high of knowing he’s the last human alive. All that time away from home with all those people calling him crazy and now Andriy gets the last laugh. So, he throws out his routine. He makes a giant sandwich because rations are meant to keep you alive to be saved yet there’s no one left to do so. And he screams into the void, pretending to be a radio DJ playing his favorite tunes for a vacuum of stars.

Except someone is listening. It takes three hours to travel to him, but Catherine (Alexia Depicker) sends a message to tell Andriy he isn’t alone after all. And after getting to know each other through brief messages as though they are pen pals rather than the last remnants of an extinct life form, the opportunity to meet arrives via a risky “what if?” Since the debris from Earth’s destruction has all but debilitated Andriy’s ship, he must wield the sort of ingenuity for which a pragmatic computer such as Maxim wouldn’t approve. Some things go right. Others go very wrong. But what’s the point of living safely without anything to live for?

Therein lies the main theme at the back of Ostrikov’s film. Maxim’s mission is to keep Andriy alive, but for what purpose now that Earth is gone? All the code and rules in the world can’t erase the fact that his protocols are destined to fail regardless of whether he helps expedite the timeline or not. So, why not roll the dice? Wouldn’t a couple days or a few hours with someone else be better than months or years alone? Because Catherine has a much faster clock on her existence. Without fuel, Saturn’s gravity will soon tear her ship apart. Maybe it’s a longshot, but Andriy would rather try and fail than not know. To meet oblivion head-on together instead of going crazy begging for it all to end.

It’s a one-man show as a result. Yes, Maxim and Catherine are interacting with Andriy to keep things moving, but it’s all Kravchuk as far as emotional and dramatic weight go. His frustrations. His hopes. His regrets. The more he talks to the computer, the more we see how much he needs another human to remind him of life’s purpose. The more he talks to Catherine, the more we discover the reasons he’s been doing this job for as long as he has. Andriy is a mess. He goes one hundred miles per hour or not at all—grounds for Catherine to justifiably get freaked out and for Maxim to potentially manipulate him away from his goals.

The middle third can drag a bit as a result of this trio feeling each other out and measuring their words, but it’s not without reason once new revelations come out to turn the plot on its head. Nothing is too surprising since there are only so many options when you have so few characters and nowhere to escape to, but where Ostrikov takes us is both devastating and hopeful in equal measure. That’s no small feat either considering the only logical conclusion is death. Being able to reach that point with grace and beauty despite the growing tensions and uncertainty that risk a complete implosion of the tenuous relationship built proves a resounding success.

I loved the production design and the ability to make a one-room film feel more expansive than it is. The electronic “eyes” on Maxim’s robot screen augment Popadko’s vocal performance. The use of food and plasticine help give us an entry point into Andriy’s state of mind. And then there’s a brilliant piece of visual comedy—complete with Richard Strauss music cue from 2001: A Space Odyssey—courtesy of a bright red chair to brighten Andriy’s day. Add the very bad “Dad jokes” and a believably cringe declaration of love and we end up witnessing a real microcosm of life through the eyes of an introvert who escaped Earth to avoid the sadness of living alone only to ultimately discover the dignity of dying together.