A dystopian thriller that attempts to be a timely examination of greed, socialism and the ever-lasting appeal of youthful-looking skin, In Time had the makings of a brilliant sci-fi outing. But unlike Andrew Niccol’s previous efforts (the sublime The Truman Show and Gattaca), his core concept rapidly disintegrates into dull cliché.
In a retro-future world where time is literally money, aging stops at 25. From then on time must be earned, and added to your lifespan. The poor will die within a year, unless they can earn, beg or steal the time. The rich can live indefinitely.
It’s a simple concept, well realised – for the first 40 minutes anyway. The harsh lifestyle is presented starkly, as portions of people’s lifespans are exchanged for food, transport, time with prostitutes, with the bleak, survivalist tones creating a chilling atmosphere similar to Alfonzo Cuaron’s Children of Men. The huge divide between the time-laden bourgeoisie and the constantly fearful ghettos not only offers plenty of sci-fi allegories to please the Occupy Wall Street crowd, but interesting insights into the effect of wealth upon behaviour. When poorboy Will (Justin Timberlake) is suddenly bestowed with huge amounts of time, allowing him to move up in society, his constantly rushed behaviour becomes a tell-tale sign of his background – an interesting take on nouveau riche mannerisms.
But when Will decides to take power back from the elite Timekeepers, this potentially Inception-esque tale is quickly reduced into a dull Robin Hood meets Logan’s Run action tale. As the wooden Timberlake and Amanda Seyfreid monotonously drone their way through an awful script filled with gaping plot holes, predictable action sequences, and eye-rolling social metaphors, the central theme of time being a valuable commodity is indeed emphasised - but only because each painful minute seemed endless. And somehow I don’t think that was the effect Niccols was going for.