krēˈāSH(ə)n

Description

The Afterlife is real — and it’s everything anyone could dream of. People ride unicorns, fly like Superman, and live without illness, inequality, or violence. It’s so perfect that society has begun to embrace suicide as a way to get there faster. In the Beforelife, Ellie and Gage’s relationship reaches a breaking point. Ellie wants to start a family here, while Gage longs for a fresh start in the Afterlife. Meanwhile, their friend Jud has made his decision: he wants to die. And not just any death—he’s building an elaborate machine to ensure his exit is unforgettable.Disregarding the government-subsidized, peaceful methods of suicide, Jud has created SPIKE, a human-powered death machine designed to crush him. In doing so, he hopes to leave behind a death that will be remembered, a final work of art in a world where artists compete to die in increasingly creative ways. Jud asks for Ellie and Gage’s help. Gage is eager, Ellie reluctant. As they wait for Jud’s courage to catch up with his plan, life in this dystopian world presses on — bodies floating in the Thames, disconnected conversations about existence. Gage and Ellie’s intimacy falters, revealing that their paths are diverging.Then, Jud calls. They arrive to find him unconscious, teetering on the brink of death, and after a brief, uneasy discussion, Gage decides it’s his time too. He climbs into SPIKE with Jud. Ellie locks the soundproof hatch. As she begins to turn The Wheel, SPIKE groans to life. Inside, Jud regains consciousness and panics — but it’s too late. The machine collapses, spreading blood and destruction. Ellie, wiping herself clean, approaches the wreckage. She reaches in and pulls out the broken, pitiful remains of both men. With a heavy heart, she places their mangled bodies into an empty Tupperware container, sealing it tight — their final resting place.

Biblical Connection

At its core, krēˈāSH(ə)n is about the human desire for purpose, fame, and legacy in a world that seems to offer nothing but transience and decay. Like Ecclesiastes, the film delves into the tension between our need for meaning and the inevitability of death — ‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,’ as Ecclesiastes 1:2 says. The visual storytelling in krēˈāSH(ə)n embraces the absurd, with moments that combine dark humor, surrealism, and striking imagery. These moments are hauntingly symbolic of the cyclical futility described in Ecclesiastes: that despite all our toil and striving, it is death that levels us all. Ultimately, krēˈāSH(ə)n asks the same question posed by Ecclesiastes: What’s the point of it all? And in doing so, it offers a reflective and poignant commentary on our modern obsession with legacy, fame, and the spectacle of death. I believe krēˈāSH(ə)n captures the spirit of Ecclesiastes in a fresh and powerful way, bringing an ancient biblical text into a modern, provocative narrative.