Obligatory The Last of Us reference.
Yes, there are definitely similarities between said video game and The Girl with All the Gifts, yet I actually find the film shares more in common with the book I Am Legend, only from a reversed perspective. I doubt anyone can argue, however, that The Girl with All the Gifts isn’t a morally grey film, and it’s such ambiguity, an innovative concept to the zombie genre, and its well-written/acted protagonist that makes the film so thoroughly engaging.
The film follows Melanie (Sennia Nanua), your typical pre-teen girl living her daily life inside a military cell, strapped to a wheelchair when going to school, guns pointed at her face on a daily bas…oh wait. Actually, turns out Melanie isn’t your typical child for two reasons. One, she’s a genius, and two, she’s infected with a fungal disease that has turned most of humanity into mindless, flesh-craving monsters known as hungries. Melanie, along with a small group of imprisoned children, were born with the disease—allowing them to retain their cognitive abilities while still craving flesh. Melanie’s imprisoners are a group of soldiers, researchers, and teachers working together to create a vaccine from the children. Things go horribly wrong, as they usually do in these stories, when a horde of hungries storm the imprisoners’s base, with only Melanie, her teacher (Helen Justineau), a research doctor (Glenn Close), and three soldiers (their sergeant played by Paddy Considine) escaping.
Zombie stories are a dime a dozen, and if a writer desires to make an impact with their version, a new concept must be added to the mix. Infected yet immune characters are nothing new to the genre, as aren’t infected yet immune children, or infected yet immune girls. Where The Girl with All the Gifts distinguishes itself with its infected yet immune characters is their persisting desire for living flesh. Melanie is a sweet, compassionate girl, but once she gets hungry her desire for flesh overrides all rationality (though she tries her best to resist). There’s a scene where Melanie is sent out to “hunt” when she begins feeling the effects of the hunger. Melanie’s state, however, makes her a valuable member to the survival party as other hungries ignore attacking their own kind—allowing Melanie to go out and scout for safer routes and/or find animals to use as a distraction. Melanie’s state leads to some tragic scenes, yet also can make for some surprisingly witty dark humor. There’s a scene where Melanie’s hunger causes her to devour a cat, an animal she’s quite fond of. The scene itself is somber, but later leads to a humorous conversation where Melanie’s teacher asks if she wants (to adopt) a cat, causing Melanie to reply; “No thanks. I already had one.”
Melanie is an intriguingly well-written character, effectively portrayed by her young actress. The character lives through her grim situation with an unnaturally positive outlook on life. She greets her imprisoners politely and with a smile, and contains boundless curiosity/questions about everything she comes across. There’s an adorable scene where Melanie scouts ahead and explores a house, her child-like curiosity taking hold as she plays with a doggy door, some fridge magnets, and a washing machine. Nanua does a great job conveying how unsettling Melanie’s cheerfulness is to the others without making the character unsettling to the audience. Nonetheless, this doesn’t mean Melanie’s actions don’t come across as disturbing and/or unnatural at times. How much of these actions are caused by nurture vs nature is unknown, but it’s clear that while Melanie is very much a child at heart, her intelligence and reasoning can be the most complex and calculative of the group.
When one of the soldiers is in trouble, Melanie panics for his safety, frantically pushing the others to go save him. When they discover the soldier torn up and devoured, his commanding sergeant becomes emotionally upset, yet Melanie calmly notes how it was only in the hungries’s nature to do so before moving on. I’ve tried my best not to bring The Last of Us further into this review, but I can’t help but note what a great contrast Melanie is to the video game’s deuteragonist Ellie in terms of emotional response and actions. Take, for example, when both characters brutally murder someone. Both are gruesome scenes that play upon the characters’s coming-of-age element, yet each girl’s, in addition to their friendly adult(s)’s, reaction to such murder wildly differ in tone and theme.
The film’s remaining cast all utilize a basic trope role that is turned distinctive through performance and interactions with Melanie. Aside from Melanie, the doctor is the most engaging and interesting of the group. She and Melanie are two sides of the same coin: both have boundless curiosity, intelligence, and intense drive, yet are on opposing sides. Melanie desires to live, while the doctor requires her to die—yet the two share a mutual respect for each other, leading to some fascinating conversations between them. I love that the film places them on the same survival team, with the two having several friendly scientific discussions despite both knowing the doctor’s endgame plan. There are times where I actually got annoyed with the action/tension-building scenes as they kept interrupting Melanie and the doctor’s interactions.
The final confrontation between Melanie and the doctor, along with its resulting consequences, is the most interesting and morally complex zombie-genre finale I’ve seen in years. It’s the manner in which the film’s four main characters are written that makes these scenes work so successfully. The doctor, the sergeant, the teacher and Melanie all have sympathetic qualities and understandable motivations, yet possess conflicting goals that make it difficult to completely root for one. The last scene ideally emphasizes such concept, being an upbeat, hopeful ending for one character with a disturbingly tragic undertone for another. The Girl with All the Gifts is a worthwhile viewing experience, though, even more impressively, it has got me interested in reading its source material, which is always a noteworthy achievement for a film.
