Bel Powley and Nick Robinson bring a tender curiosity to their dystopian world as Michael Tyburski’s film lulls you in and reminds you of the joy of being human.
★★★★☆
Sci-fi and romance on the surface seem like an unlikely combination. The rational reason and logic of science is so obviously at odds with the messiness of romantic entanglements. And yet, sci-fi and dystopian worlds are so often the perfect place to explore the core aspect of the human experience that is being in love. From Her (2013) to Never Let Me Go (2010) to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), the intersection of technology and feeling allows filmmakers to tap into something authentic and relatable, even when presented within entirely fantastical contexts.
Adding to the ouevre, is Michael Tyburski with his funny yet tender peek into how sex, love and all the complicated emotions that come with them are inherent to what makes us human. Turn Me On is gentle as it peels back the layers, but reveals its truths with profundity and heart in a way that intimately draws you in.
Bel Powley (A Small Light) stars as Joy, an ironic name given that she lives in a community that never allows the feeling. In fact, it never allows any feeling – all emotions are suppressed by the vitamin, provided by an overseer known only as ‘Our Friends’. She lives each day in a simple monotonous routine with her partner William (Nick Robinson – Love, Simon). Instead of asking “how are you?”, friends and colleagues ask, “Are you content?”. The answer is inevitably, always, “Quite content.” While in our world, we each strive for contentment, here it is depicted as a cold, lifeless thing. And while she knows nothing beyond it, Joy’s eyes express a curiosity that suggests a yearning for something more. This yearning is satisfied when a cancer diagnosis requires her to skip her vitamin for one day. Suddenly, the colour slowly returns to her life, as she feels things she’s long forgotten, whether it’s just ‘bleh’ or even small laughs at unexpected things.
She becomes an evangelist for this new abundance she’s experienced, and quickly convinces Will to skip his vitamin too. Together, as the feeling comes back to their bones and their minds, they uncover new ways to make each other feel good, in what they call, ‘syncing’. We’d just call it sex. They quickly tell their social circle about it, and soon enough, six of them are covertly exploring what it means to feel again, and to experience sexuality and desire and rejection and heartbreak. It’s messy, it’s dangerous, and it’s glorious.
The previously muted tones of the film’s production design and cinematography suddenly feel less dull, made vivid by the warm glow of lamplight used rather than the harsh white light of day. Montage-style shots of nature are shown throughout the film, but whereas at the start they reflect the isolation of their lifestyle and the coldness of Joy and Will’s environment, suddenly they are used as metaphors for climaxing, and as revelations of the majesty of nature. The previously cold, stinted character interactions now have humour and warmth and flirtation in them. We learn who these characters are at the same time as they do, finally allowing for the privilege of self-discovery.
It is a minimalist production and works best when it operates as such. In the film’s final act, as it tries to break the structure of the world it has established, it loses steam, struggling to get us to root for the new life ‘Our Friends’ (represented by D’Arcy Carden in a very cool suit) want Joy to have. Angela Bourassa’s script often leaves plenty of breathing space for us to interpret the concept as we please, but this space gets condensed as the film goes on. However, what keeps the audiences engaged throughout are the performances, and particularly Powley and Robinson’s gentle chemistry: an intimacy that is quiet and while underdeveloped, still feels earned. The further core ensemble (Justin H. Min, Nesta Cooper, Griffin Newman and Julia Shiplett) use limited screen time to give us valuable insight into the inner workings of the lives of these characters as they discover anger, frustration, and love. We feel a part of their group, as if we too are just learning these emotions.
The film’s slow, gentle pace won’t be for everyone, but its central rumination on the meaning of life is one that is relevant to everyone. Turn Me On understands that life is best lived leaning into the messy richness of a vulnerable, fragile, unpredictable, emotional life. It expresses this in a simple way, but certainly an enjoyable one.
The Verdict
Bel Powley and Nick Robinson shine in this minimalist love story about finding out how to fulfil your potential. A simple story with a steady script that doesn’t have anything new to say, Turn Me On touches on age-old truths reimagined in a futuristic setting.
Words by Rehana Nurmahi
Turn Me On is now available on digital platforms.
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