CARGO

We should have known it : in the 23th century, our earth seems like an enormous open septic tank and our dear descendants have no other choice but to cram as cattle in overpopulated space stations gravitating around the blue carcass. Laura, who’s had enough of sharing her bit of oxygen, dreams of one thing: to get to RHEA – little preserved patch of land five light years away from her riveted caravan – to join her sister, who’s never heard of acid rains, in her flowery dress. And since the tickets are as expensive as a private showcase of Bono, she accepts to get on board the Kassandra as a doctor to deliver a cargo to station 42 ( another intergalactic rabbit cage ) : it is well paid and you hibernate during eight months in your crypto-juice waiting your turn. What more could you ask for ? Well, possibly, a risk bonus because Laura is soon going to discover that she’s going straight to hell and that the exit door of her cool-box is not an option. It took ten years of gestation, eight different scripts and some detours by L.A. for Ivan Engler to give birth to his first movie ( with a little help of co-director Ralph Etter ). Lots of Swiss patience, you might say. That might be true, but this meticulous thinking shows on screen. Cargo is an eco-space-opera with lots of references ( Alien, Stalker, Sunshine ) and a true Helvetic tour de force.

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