The great Mahershala Ali may have two Academy Awards, but – save for his double act with Colin Farrell in True Detective and the incoming Blade reboot – the actor is seldom cast as a leading man. One of many reasons to see Benjamin Cleary’s thought-provoking Swan Song is Ali’s touching dual performance at the heart of the film. The actor plays Cameron Turner, a successful graphic designer, a loving husband to his pregnant wife Poppy (Naoimie Harris), and a doting father to Hugo (Dax Rey). Mindful that Poppie is still grieving her brother, Cameron considers a radical solution after being diagnosed with a terminal illness: cloning.
As Dr Scott (Glenn Close) and her collaborating psychologist (Adam Beach) explain, the only difference between Cameron and his clone will be a freckle on his hand. “If you get confused, find the freckle, and you’ll know who you are.” In all other respects – DNA, memories, subconscious processes – the two Camerons will be indistinguishable.
Irish director Benjamin Cleary came to international prominence in 2016, when his drama Stutterer won Best Live Action Short Film at the 88th Academy Awards. The writer-director has taken his time crafting his debut feature, a cerebral science-fiction that shares a sub-genre and themes of loss and love with Alain Resnais’s Je t’aime, Je t’aime and Michel Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Cameron’s confrontations with himself are as philosophical as they are discombobulating. Awkwafina’s Kate, another patient who has already gone through the same process that Cameron is facing, makes for a fascinating second set of dual performances.
Mirrored and paired scenes abound in Cleary’s clever screenplay. The young director is aided and abetted by a remarkable team, including Irish producer Rebecca Bourke, composer Jay Wadley, cinematographer Masanobu Takayanagi, and production designer Annie Beauchamp. Their efforts coalesce into something akin to Cameron’s own experiences: we’re looking at a future that is simultaneously alien and eerily familiar.
