Alas, why talk of the film, when the choice IS yours to view its beautiful imagery, quietly powerful performances—human and otherwise—and its poignant and very timely message: we are no closer to understanding our environment and its inhabitants than we were so many thousands of years ago. Do we need more time? More information? More access to what makes those consume, and those just…well, live and survive?
The formal definition of library doesn’t include anything about caretakers or knowledge overlords. Suppose the best thing about a library is its access to information. It is a foregone conclusion that no one anywhere at any time ever thought that too much access was a negative concept. Where does that curious fascination have its genesis? Genesis…hmmm…there’s an interesting word. The Beginning. The Commencement. The Start. Was it found facts? Lost head scratcher morsels? Was it always embedded within our DNA? Enough questions for now. Let’s conclude in the Land of Many Answers. Let’s assault the lofty walls of the Land of Too Much. Let’s look upon the mortal consequences of Access and Information. Let’s end this search.
The film sets Smith and his metaphysical library smack in the middle of the Arctic, and one is left with the impression that humans are a prisoner of ambitions, hopes, dreams and a false sense of importance. In the wilderness of this land, there is no justice, there is only life, and life on this land, not necessarily YOUR land, is very unforgiving, indeed.