Perfection's curse

Andrew Niccol's Gattaca warns of the dangers of valuing perfection over humanness.

To perceive Andrew Niccol's futuristic thriller Gattaca as simply a story of ambition and conquest is to ignore the film's more potent power and message. Gattaca presents us with a reflection of our world, a chilling and disturbing reminder of the dangers of absolute dependence on technology.
The desire for perfection and the methods used to achieve it are the focuses of the film, and our protagonist, Vincent Freeman, embodies all that is good and evil in the attempt to be "valid". Vincent's persistence to succeed beyond his genetic limitations is noble, but the more interesting aspect of the film is the way he sets about achieving his dream of becoming one of the "right kind of people".
Visually the film is intoxicating and aesthetically inviting with its heightened use of colour, an evocative score from Michael Nyman, the masterful use of framing, the casting of "beautiful" people and the sleek, symmetry of the set. Our desire to be part of this world is logical. Vincent's flashbacks to his "invalid", albeit real, childhood are done in sepia tones and heavy, drab costumes suggesting a world that is obsolete, uninteresting and where one's potential is limited by "God birth". Conception "the natural way" has given way to science; timber and earthy textures have been usurped by chrome and stainless steel, and natural light is ignored in favour of synthetic light.
Underlying the overt perception of perfection, acceptance and what is desirable is the danger and destructive nature of that desire. Denial of natural talents and flaws, the rejection of nature and the disregard of human feelings can only lead to chaos.
Niccol's use of blue throughout the film reflects futuristic technology but also the coldness and sterility of this world.
As a creature determined to be part of this world, Vincent is often filmed surrounded by this light. A good example is the opening where his body matter falls to the ground with a thud. It is not coincidental that our first image of Vincent is as a segmented, incomplete figure, broken up by the lines of the incinerator. In his attempts to be accepted into Gattaca he is continuously reminded of his imperfection by his constant struggle with his failing "genetic quotient", his body.
Vincent's determination to succeed and fly to Saturn's moon Titan sees him change his identity, relinquish his family and his past and suffer extraordinary pain to achieve his dream. But Niccol's question is whether it is all worth it. Just what has to be sacrificed to be accepted and embraced into the lifeless and sterile world of perfection?
Like many noir films, Gattaca presents us with an alter ego to the protagonist. As the "exceptional example" of perfection, Jerome Morrow is introduced much like Shakespeare's tragic heroes, with glowing praise of his perfection before Vincent (and viewers) get to meet him. Jerome's very distinct and obvious flaw is therefore a surprise. Even one who seems to have it all can suffer equally under the weight of perfection.
Through the morphed character of Vincent/Jerome we are reminded that we are all made up of parts and the very imperfections that determine our humanness are those we should embrace and celebrate. In attempting to eradicate flaws we are becoming less human, and not even the components of perfection can change who we are. Jerome is tortured by his failure - coming "second" - and is a tragic figure who attempts to forget this by using sarcasm and the bottle to numb the pain.
When studying the two characters it is Jerome who praises, supports, thanks, forgives and sacrifices for a friend, not Vincent, and we have an interesting contrast between the notions of human greatness and personal success. In the controversial ending, having become a real and complete human being, Jerome has realised his potential to be a "champion", and by ending his life, in a sense, "ascends" into his heaven knowing the value of human life is in what we do - not who we are. But his death also raises the important question about the value of human imperfection in a society that seems determined to condemn those without the right genetic quotient.
Vincent's struggle to achieve his dream sees him learn more about himself and humanity than any trip to Titan could achieve. It is through the characters of Jerome and Irene that Vincent learns the value of acceptance and human failings. His myopic vision is changed forever thanks to his relationship with Irene, who teaches Vincent how to see.
As Irene beckons Vincent across the busy road it is Vincent's instinct and desire to be with Irene that sees him cross the road. His tools for Gattaca perfection - the contact lenses - have been discarded and Vincent is forced to rely on his humanness. Once across the road Irene's vision of beauty, a sunrise with all its golden hues, is a stark contrast to Vincent's constructed view of what is important. Irene is crucial in altering Vincent's view of the world.
At the end of the film Vincent realises that his foray into human frailty - love and friendship - have left him scarred but he has gained the "better deal".
There is a brief shot near the beginning of the film where Jerome and Vincent, having recently undergone his leg extensions, are presented in a two-shot, both "crippled" by the weight of perfection. This shot also reminds us that living a "borrowed" existence can be destructive. These two figures are changed enormously by their interaction, becoming greater "blood brothers" than Vincent and his genetically sound brother Anton.
Vincent's refusal to accept his limitations and challenge the system inspires Jerome, while it is Jerome's humanity and sacrifice that alters Vincent's view of the world. In this single shot, Niccol reminds us that technology and its capacity to construct perfection cannot guarantee happiness or inner peace.
Gattaca explores the themes of ambition and desire but it also articulates the importance of virtue, faith, acceptance and humanity. In Gattaca, as in today's world, discrimination and prejudice can cripple.
Vincent's challenge to the system and denial of society's constructs sees him achieve his dream, but his lament at the end, "for someone who was never meant for this world, I'm suddenly having a hard time leaving it", speaks more about what he's learnt than what he's achieved.