FOUR/SIX-C Film Review

The first thing about FOUR/SIX-C that catches one’s attention is the Akira-inspiredmetropolis wherein our main character, Sal, lives. However, unlike Akira, this city goes beyond its Blade Runner-like dystopia to show a world that is desolate and empty, exactly

like Sal’s life. And this brings me to the fascinating premise of the film where Sal has

essentially taken on the role of God with the sole purpose of facilitating the evolution of

humanity, kind of like the character of Leto II in the Dune universe.

The question that the film asks is - what is it like to be a God? Ofcourse, you’ll have

unlimited power. But it comes at a cost, and that is loneliness. Once you’ve transcended to a higher life form, you can’t possibly relate to or understand those below your level.

In the film, Sal is enroute to becoming such a God, but he is not fully there. Thus, despite having the power to steer the course of mankind, Sal, like any human being, yearns for the one thing that is missing in this massive but empty metropolis – a human connection. That’s why he continues to hold onto the memory of a long lost loved one named Eve and obsessively tries to restore her back to life. His inability to let go is the only thing stopping him from truly becoming a God.

Since animation is a medium that gives ample space for creative expression, the film utilizes

this to the fullest in its visual storytelling. First comes the worldbuilding which is always

crucial for any film dealing with dystopia. When the empty city is introduced initially, there

is always a sense that some NSA-like figure is spying on Sal via the presence of ominous

CCTV cameras. However, later its revealed that all the CCTV footage is actually playing on

screens in Sal's home, dispelling the presence of any shadowy government entities. Even the inclusion of this common dystopian trope, would mean that Sal is at least not alone. But, unfortunately, he truly is. To be a God is to have the power of creation, specifically creating life. So, when Sal tries really hard to create a sparrow out of thin air, it is visually a great way to convey that he is trying to exercise his God skills. This also sets up the methodology of creation that he is trying to perfect to bring back Eve and eventually the entirety of humanity, as part of his “terrible purpose”.

With such strong visual storytelling in its arsenal, it’s a bit baffling to see that when it comes

to exploring the core themes, the film heavily resorts to using dialogue to communicate

that. This becomes especially apparent in the ending where Sal realizes the fallacy of his

obsession with Eve when Eve herself spells it out to him that his purpose is greater than just

saving her. In the end, he finally does let go. Or does he? The film nicely builds this

ambiguity when it plugs in a post-credit scene where Sal is seen, almost obsessively, draw a portrait of Eve. After all, Sal originally was only human.

By Vashist Thakwani