Matt Smith, who plays Clone’s hero Tommy, is handsome in a kooky way. More Easter Island statue than Michelangelo’s David. He has the kind of face that might end up being lumbered with off-kilter sci-fi movies. On the strength of Clone, that’s no bad thing.
It’s a tough movie to categorise – a distinctly Orwellian character study with plenty of lingering art-house shots of windy beaches and stormy seas. It is not unlike Keira Knightly and Andrew Garfield’s Never Let Me Go. Sort of.
The gist of it is that Eva Green’s Rebecca falls in love with her childhood sweet-heart Tommy after returning from a stint in Japan. Tragedy befalls the couple when Tommy is hit by a truck; Rebecca’s response is to impregnate herself with Tommy’s clone – an inspired reaction to bereavement.
Life isn’t easy for clones – or “copies”, as they are referred to – and Tommy’s second life is a maelstrom of oedipal desire. Don’t walk into this expecting a suspenseful thriller – is’s more like a sexually uncomfortable postcard. In a good way.
First published in City A.M.