FINCH. Tom Hanks in a Post-Apocalyptic Science Fiction

Finch is a representative of post-apocalyptic fiction, since it depicts a world after a climate catastrophe. However, it has much more in common with a classic drama, as it is less concerned with delivering a pro-ecological message and more with manifesting the strength of friendship.

There once was a film called A Boy and His Dog. It went down in history as an extremely brutal, ruthless, and chauvinistic creation, which, among other things, inspired George Miller when making Mad Max. It told the story of a post-disaster world in which the protagonist and his dog try to survive. The creators of Finch drew a rather clear parallel to that 1975 spectacle. But, as with any good variation, the emphasis was shifted: instead of a boy we got an old man, and instead of violence we got a family-friendly movie. A safe, cautious family film.

But A Boy and His Dog was not the only source of inspiration for Finch. Another one was Silent Running from 1972. Once again, it is a lonely scientist who, in a decaying future, proves capable of coping better than others and of finding meaning where everyone else sees only emptiness. Technology, of course, comes to his aid. In Silent Running, Bruce Dern’s character is accompanied by robots. It’s no different in Finch. But Tom Hanks wants to take it a step further and use the newly built humanoid to watch his back. The film’s main character, in Miguel Sapochnik’s story, is afflicted by illness. When he finally dies, someone will have to take care of his dog.

The creators of Finch naturally bow deeply to classic science fiction through a multitude of references. Suffice it to say that this is yet another film clearly based on Isaac Asimov’s iron laws of robotics, according to which a robot cannot harm its creator. Forbidden Planet, Short Circuit, Chappie—we’ve seen it before. Truth be told, Finch is nothing more than a patchwork of well-known, well-established tropes, dressed up in an attractive, professional package. It’s hard to fault any aspect of the visuals (the set design!) which look simply first-rate. I instantly bought into the grime of this abandoned future world—I didn’t sense even a hint of falseness.

I was also convinced by the design of Jeff, the robot who accompanies the protagonist on his journey. However, I noticed that once he started talking, he became irritating. And that’s precisely the problem. This story looks good, but it doesn’t sound good. Several other things in Finch come across just as convincingly, but the fact remains that, overall, the visual strengths are merely accomplices to a profound narrative emptiness. Finch is a pretty film about nothing. From almost the very first minutes, you can sense the intentions of both the director and the actor: they wanted to move us with a simple story of friendship. A story about searching for meaning and an anchor in a dusty, forgotten world. The protagonist could just as well have drunk himself to death in his bunker, but the desire to build a robot that could take over his responsibilities after his death gave him motivation. That’s the entire premise laid out on a platter.

Hanks “feels” loneliness well, since he convincingly portrayed it in the memorable Cast Away. There he talked to a volleyball; here he talks to a dog. Yet it all feels painfully repetitive. We know these emotions all too well. Finch can almost be watched with your eyes closed, and you’ll still instantly grasp everything in the story, keeping your composure even in its most delicate moments. I don’t object to this kind of cinema. Probably in a few years, when I sit down with my son in front of the TV, wanting to watch a simple film with a simple message, attractively presented, I’ll choose Finch. But keeping objectivity in mind, it’s hard to shake the impression that this is simply an unnecessary film, adding very little in terms of quality. Competent, yes. But had it been released in theaters, it would have flopped completely.