These days I don’t watch as many new films as I used to, partly because I no longer work full-time as a critic/programmer and have other things I enjoy doing, partly because I get a lot out of revisiting the films I admire most, and partly because so many new movies clearly aren’t made for people like me. I have no interest in superheroes, preferring fare that is related somehow to – and which may even give me insights into – this world we live in. So why, here, am I alerting you to the existence of a piece of science fiction which isn’t even a film, as such?
Because, notwithstanding my somewhat irregular engagement with new releases, there are certain filmmakers whose work I always try to keep up with. Some are long-established, others have made very few features; some are famous, others relatively obscure. What matters is that their work to date has been, for me at least, distinctive or personal (rather than formulaic or anonymous) and dependably rewarding. One such filmmaker is Steven Soderbergh, whose output I’ve been following keenly ever since sex, lies and videotape. (So far the only Soderbergh feature I’ve not been able to see is Let Them All Talk – but I’ll be patient.) Hence the aforementioned work of science fiction, and this recommendation.
Unless you too are a Soderbergh completist, you may not even be aware of the existence of Command Z, since it is a series, currently available only through Soderbergh’s own website, extension765.com. The series was financed and produced independently by the director, and it costs just $7.99 (or its equivalent) to purchase, a once-only fee that goes to charity. (All proceeds are donated to Children’s Aid and Boston University Center for Antiracist Research, if you’re interested.) It’s in eight episodes of varying length, with a total running time of around 90 minutes, which just flashes by.
I suppose one might have argued that Contagion was sort of sci-fi, or at least speculative fiction, though the recent pandemic demonstrated, all too tragically, that that film was very much related to the world we inhabit. Perhaps Soderbergh’s most direct engagement with the genre was Solaris (adapted from Stanislav Lem’s novel, and for me far preferable to the earlier Tarkovsky version). Command Z could not be more different from the Lem adaptation. Whereas Solaris was a measured, meditative, melancholy study of loss, Command Z is pacy, punchy, consistently engaging, wonderfully fresh and frequently very funny, even though it also deals, to some extent with loss. Indeed, the loss in this case is on an altogether different scale: we’re talking about the loss of the planet as we know it. And this partly explains why I was attracted to this new, satirical, idiosyncratic addition to the sci-fi genre; apart from being a Soderbergh project, it deals with the climate crisis, inequality, corruption, politics, monetised religion, and other aspects of modern life. Not superheroes. With anxiety, cynicism and hope, not miracles.
The film, which kicks off in 2053, centres on three intriguingly different employees of the Fealty company, whose boss is an AI version of a billionaire who blew himself up while travelling to Mars. He/it tells the trio they can help to improve the wretched state of the world by travelling back through a time wormhole to July 2023; they can then, though methods carefully explained in the first episode, get inside and try to shape the thoughts of various people who will in turn, it is hoped, be able to influence the actions of acquaintances who contributed to the destruction of the world as we know it. A premise not unlike that of La Jetée and the Terminator movies, in other words, with a touch of Being John Malkovich thrown in for good measure. No matter; it still feels original and pleasingly different.
What distinguishes Command Z from those other time-travel movies is this: while it is utterly up-to-date and relevant in dealing with some of the most urgent and important issues of our time – including the survival of humanity on a planet wrecked by climate change – it never feels as if it’s moralising or sermonising (despite the penultimate episode being titled ‘Preach’). Rather, it makes its points lightly, preferring to use absurdist humour and to make the most of its limited resources. Soderbergh shot the series quickly, cheaply and almost secretly in New York last summer, between Magic Mike’s Last Dance and the upcoming mini-series Full Circle. Inspired by Kurt Andersen’s 2020 non-fiction best-seller Evil Geniuses: The Unmaking of America, it was written by various people: Anderson and screenwriter Larry Doyle scripted the first and last episodes, while the rest were scripted by cast members and others. The actors (with a couple of exceptions, namely Michael Cera and Liev Schreiber), are unlikely, I imagine, to be familiar to most non-American viewers, as they appear to have worked mainly in stand-up comedy and television; that said, they fit the bill perfectly, given the irreverent satirical tone throughout.
Indeed, tone is crucial to the success of Command Z, which revels in the low-budget production values of some scenes, particularly those showing the three workers in their grungy workspace and the means by which they are transported back in time. (One of the characters even likens the time portal to a washing machine – not without good reason.) This gleeful readiness to turn constraints to advantage – a readiness wholly unsurprising in the director of such imaginative left-field delights as Schizopolis, Bubble, The Girlfriend Experience, Unsane and Kimi – is enormously fruitful in that it prevents the proceedings from ever sinking into turgid portentousness. The subject may be apocalyptic, but the film is anything but grandiose (let alone religiose!). And it gently reminds us, as it confronts those overwhelmingly big questions about our future, that there are still small things we can do to counter the forces of complacency, be they utterly self-centred or simply deluded. Plus, as I said before, it is very funny.
If I haven’t yet persuaded you to donate a little money and 90 minutes of your time to this frighteningly relevant and life-brighteningly funny creation ‘From the A** of Steven Soderbergh’, maybe this trailer will do it.
Command Z can be found at extension765.com at https://commandzseries.com
notes and observations by Geoff Andrew 