LX 2048: A Sci-Fi Tragicomedy in the Spirit of Black Mirror

LX 2048 is a film so disturbingly timely that you almost wish it never turns out to be prophetic.

Adam Bird is not a lucky man. His virtual reality hardware company is on the brink of financial ruin due to a breakthrough technology that allows people to connect to a digital realm known as the Realm without the need for external devices. To make matters worse, Adam’s wife, Reena, has filed for divorce after catching him having sex with a virtual avatar named Maria. Adam also has a poor relationship with his three children, who spend all their free time immersed in the Realm. As if that weren’t enough, one day he receives a devastating diagnosis from his doctor: a terminal heart condition.

In order not to leave his family destitute, Adam must activate a Premium 3 insurance policy that will provide for the creation of a perfect clone of himself after his death. The problem? Reena doesn’t want to wait until he dies, and Adam has no intention of dying. His last resort is to seek out the mysterious creator of Premium 3.

American director and screenwriter Guy Moshe made his debut with the short film ?! (2002). He then moved on to features: Holly (2006), a drama about the friendship between an American conman and a Vietnamese girl forced into prostitution, and the rather absurd, comic book-style action film Bunraku (2010), featuring an all-star cast. LX 2048 is an American-Lithuanian co-production, shot in Los Angeles and Vilnius, starring James D’Arcy, Anna Brewster, Delroy Lindo, and Gabrielle Cassi. Moshe based the script on his observations of divorces among his friends.

“I also couldn’t shake the thought that one of the reasons why the structure of the family in the modern world seems less sacred than it used to be is the technological revolution happening all around us, which diminishes our need for real human interaction. With these two ideas in mind, the story started to evolve. I wanted to focus on the journey of one character,” the director explained.

That character is, of course, Adam — played by D’Arcy in a way that makes him easy to understand but hard to like. Adam is indeed plagued by near-biblical misfortunes, but it seems some of them are of his own making. He’s also a classic hypocrite: constantly lamenting that people have abandoned “real” life for the Realm, while neglecting his own family in favor of a virtual mistress — in a world he himself helped create (or at least profits from) as a VR hardware manufacturer.

He despises the widespread use of clones performing tasks for “real” people, yet he doesn’t hesitate to benefit from their labor — and even wants to clone himself. His endless tirades, outbursts of rage, prejudices, collapses, and internal torment, along with his messianic self-image as the last just man in an unjust world, are exhausting — and yet they make him a multidimensional, deeply human, and all the more believable character.

The world of 2048 is also unsettlingly believable. A vague ecological catastrophe has made sunlight deadly to humans, forcing society into a nocturnal rhythm and, consequently, even deeper immersion into the Realm. Humanity, deprived of its natural vitamin D source, suffers from widespread depression, treated daily with doses of the titular medication — LithiumX (likely a futuristic form of lithium carbonate, used in psychiatry). The vast majority — if not all — of social, professional, romantic, and educational life takes place in the virtual space, where people work, study, date, and game. The birth rate is plummeting, as fewer people are willing to bring new life into such a grim world. Marriages with more than three children are “rewarded” with the right to clone an enhanced version of a deceased spouse.

This dystopia has many fathers: Aldous Huxley and his Brave New World, Charlie Brooker and Black Mirror, Philip K. Dick and his phantasmic unrealities, to name a few. And like those creators, Guy Moshe presents a world that’s really just our own, amplified to grotesque proportions. He treads a fine line between pathos and dark farce, creating a kind of techno-tragicomedy that touches on changes already underway in the world: the rise of artificial intelligence, the devastating effects of antisocial media on human relationships, the ethical implications of genetic engineering, the climate crisis, demographic shifts, mental health issues, pharmaceutical dependence, and the question of human identity in a reality where nearly everything can be copied, cloned, enhanced, and modified.

LX 2048 is an uneven film — but its relevance is profoundly unsettling. Let’s hope it doesn’t turn out to be prophetic.