Perhaps I’m being influenced by the ubiquitous coverage and postings on Facebook that discuss the Occupy Wall Street movement that began in New York and is trickling throughout various cities. But, In Time might actually be trying to disguise itself as an allegory aimed at the class differences in this country. Or not.
Admittedly, there are some things going against the critical success of this movie. First of all: Amanda Seyfried. I hate writing that because she showed promise in Tina Fey’s Mean Girls and 2009’s Mama Mia. Plus, she’s the only one in the laughable Jennifer’s Body who saw it as a take on a B-movie and not a sincere look at high school cliques when they encounter the dark forces of evil. At the same time, she was in Jennifer’s Body, and she topped that with turns in Chloe, Dear John, and Red Riding Hood, three films replete with issues and very few – if any – saving graces. To be honest, strictly from the trailer, one of the two lines she delivers prophecies this film to be cheesily laden with spear-in-the-gullet allegories: when asked how she can go on living while watching others die, she laments, “We don’t watch; we close our eyes.” Dialog this transparent might as well just exist without the air of pseudo-poignancy. How about: “Nah. I’d prefer to be ignorant to the whole thing.”
Then, there’s Justin Timberlake. On one hand, he’s rather funny during his guest appearances on Saturday Night Live; on the other hand, his most talked about role in The Social Network is well-performed but lacks range – not that In Time appears to require a wealth of range, but I think the main thing that detracts him from a leading role in an action thriller is that Timberlake doesn’t fit the mold of leading role in an action thriller. At most, he’s the built but diminutive little brother of Vin Diesel – with a soprano voice.
The one surefire bet might be Cillian Murphy whose subtleties evoke more believable performances than counterparts that who rely on exaggerated emoting. And, casting Murphy as the bad guy who searches for Raymond Leon (Timberlake) might not be a terrible idea to sell a villain.
Initially, In Time is eerily reminiscent of 1976’s Logan’s Run that depicts an idyllic future with one major drawback: everyone must be terminated at 30. But, the one difference with In Time seems to be that people stop aging at 25, but then they must work to buy more time, or risk dying in one year. So, in the update, everyone gets an option, providing they can earn enough to stay alive. Enter the class conflict, something is exemplified by the line: “His crime wasn’t taking time; he was giving it away.”
In a “near future” world where the “rich can live forever” and the “poor die young,” “time” becomes a currency allegorical to money: the more money, the better services and the newest technological advances in medicine. The less money, the more populated HMO office and sniffling, sneezing, queue at the pharmacy. Similarly, the more “time” one has, the longer life.
However, the most damning part of the above quote is the second half that condemns a man for “giving [time] away,” which, in a sense, decries the notion of philanthropy, altruism, and to be baser, sharing: something that is rather resonant of the pavement-filling combat between the 99% and the 1%.
Overall, I’m not quite sure whether In Time is intentionally allegorical or if the story is shaped and augmented by the barrage of news covering the “Occupy” movements, but one will be out of sight sooner than the other.
