Code 46 is a futuristic law which says that due to the massive rise in in vitro births and other shenanigans, we must not have children with people who share our genetic code. Its anti-incest because that half the people on the planet may have similar genetic codes to us. It is unfortunately a rubbish “future nightmare” on which to hang this low key love story. Much more dystopianly scary is the universal need for travel insurance, the blaise memory wipings (which form the real crux of the film) and the fact that Mick Jones might be hanging around in a Shanghai karaoke bar to sing an amateurish version of should I say or should I go.
Code 46 has lots of lovely ideas in it, but is unclear of what it wants to say (except that this highly unlikely future is bad. Okay, we won’t do it then. Job done?) It is also another film which seems happy just to point a camera at Samantha Morton and let her captivate. She does here, with her occasional jerky movements and an accent which is more like Bjork’s than anything her parental and geographical background in the film would throw up. The film feels chopped to bits, has indecipherable bits about dreams, a voiceover which makes no sense even within the film and a Coldplay song at the end which finally reminds you that what you have just seen really was just rubbish. Pity, I usually like Michael Winterbottom.