To the list of up-and-coming directors with a keen understanding of what makes science fiction such a scintillating canvas for thoughtful speculation — a list that includes Duncan Jones (Moon) and Neill Blomkamp (District 9) — one can now add, with some reservation, the name of Gareth Edwards. His low-budget effort is a solid example of scrappy independent, DIY filmmaking with gorgeous results — where non-actors made up a large part of the extras, scenes were partially ad-libbed, and post-production special effects were completed in the bedroom on a home computer. All this in the service of a high-concept plot usually reserved for Hollywood to dumb down in an action blockbuster.

The premise is the proverbial model of elegant simplicity: a NASA probe returns to earth bearing samples of alien life from elsewhere in the solar system. A crash and six years later, Northern Mexico has become an infected zone home to giant marauding alien creatures and the ruins of human civilization subject to the relentless patrol of the Mexican and U.S. militaries. Into this beautiful desolation comes a photojournalist tasked with escorting his boss’s daughter back to the United States. That’s it. No elaborate conspiracies or technologies, no epic battles — just two people on a journey home. The complexity comes from the emotions, the implications, the investment we have in the characters.

Unlike Blomkamp, who veered to the sensationalistic with District 9 — a film that displayed its anti-racism with all the vigour of an excitable sign twirler on a street corner — Edwards opts to explore his concept with the introspection of an elegy. Although he has done his monster movie homework, with a few effective scenes drawing inspiration from Godzilla and, more significantly, Jurassik Park, Edwards’s focus remains firmly on the lead characters, played by real-life couple Scoot McNairy and Whitney Able, within a political allegory. The characters themselves, the photojournalist caught up in the cynical news business and the unhappy daughter of a media mogul, hold the fascination of complex, jaded people finding solace in a hesitant, accidental romance. They are the relatable audience point-of-view, of course, as well as ironic replacements for the expected characters to brave the rough areas of Mexico on the way to the United States.

That illegal immigration forms the backbone of the allegory is clear, but the relative subtlety of the presentation and the absence of preaching are refreshing reminders that it isn’t necessary to bludgeon the audience with cinematic lectures. Furthermore, Monsters exemplifies how science fiction at its best extrapolates real, controversial issues into more easily managed fictional scenarios to provoke thought. Admittedly, the film is less interested in developing answers than in stating the problem, which counts as a black mark these days. After all, we have a greater need for solutions than an endless replay of depressingly familiar challenges. But it would be more accurate to say that the film is more interested in characters than issues, which makes Monsters hard to pin down.

Still, just as surprising as the film’s resistance to the urge towards non-stop adrenaline is the resistance to simplifying the emotional fabric of the dilemma. The aliens are destructive and invasive, certainly, but the brave question is raised: Have the film’s human populations reached a sensible interpretation and, by extension, chosen the correct response? To think of Monsters as an elegy of sorts is not at all off base; the whole film is suffused with a melancholy directed as much towards human folly as to the tragedy of becoming victim to forces seemingly out of our reach.

The film’s major flaw is a structural one involving the opening and ending scenes. Their sequential relationship is the subject of some debate, the kind that may require repeated viewing and freeze-framing to solve despite one fairly significant clue. This is where Edwards gives in to manipulative storytelling by tweaking audience expectations. One can appreciate the tragedy he is aiming for, but wish that he didn’t resort to insufferable irony to achieve it. Edwards’ s invocation of Lost in Translation seems misplaced. Sophia Coppola’s gem achieves its poignancy through the ambiguity of an uncertain future. Edwards takes the story one step too far, however, with the metafictional trickery of editing pulling the chair out from under an otherwise organic film. Perhaps he is moralizing after all.

Entertainment: * (out of two) 

Craft: ** (out of two)

Monsters. Written and directed by Gareth Edwards. Starring Scoot McNairy and Whitney Able. 94 minutes. Rated R for language.

Mr. Sisa, Assistant Editor of the newspaper, may be contacted at fsisa@thefrontpageonline.com