One of the great conceits of The Assessment is that we spend as much of the film in the dark as our befuddled protagonists do.
It’s the near future and resources in the “New World”—distinct from the barely habitable Old World (i.e. earth)—are scarce and childbirth is only granted to an elite few. If a couple wants a baby, they need approval from the government and must submit to something called an Assessment.
When we meet Mia (Elizabeth Olsen), a botanist trying to grow edible plantlife in her greenhouse, and Aaryan (Himesh Patel), a bioengineer trying to recreate animal life as virtual pets, they seem the perfect candidates for parenthood. Yes, their home is cold and remote—but that seems to be a thing in the New World: There are virtually no children. No real pets (the pets were all unceremoniously euthanized to save resources). And no foliage, beyond what Mia has growing in her greenhouse. Nonetheless, Mia and Aaryan seem loving and stable.
Then one morning, the stern looking Virginia (Alicia Vikander) shows up at their door. She’s their assessor. She immediately takes control of the house—asking Mia and Aaryan probing questions about their sex life and their relationship. She complains about her living quarters, so they give her the master bedroom. Curled up together in the twin bed intended for Virginia, they begin to have sex, only to notice Virginia lurking outside the doorway, watching them.
“I need to assess all aspects of your relationship,” Virginia says matter-of-factly. “Just imagine I’m not here.”
Things get stranger the next morning at breakfast when Virginia starts grinding salt crystals with a spoon and laughing. Then she begins banging her bowl against the table, instead of eating the food—oh, wait, she’s acting like a toddler.
But she had never told them she was going to morph into toddler—it just sort of happened.
How are Virginia and Aaryan to respond?
The thing is, babies are cute for a reason. Virginia is a grown woman, throwing tantrums. Must Mia conjure up maternal feelings toward this strange woman? And are she and Aaryan supposed to give Virginia the kind of physical affection one might give a small child? Won’t that get…inappropriate?
Aaryan, the more patient of the two, tells Mia to stay calm, even when Virginia is having fits. We signed up for this, he reminds her.
But I didn’t ask for this, she says.
The Assessment, like many a sci-fi before it, is about how far people will go to have, or save, a child. It has a creepily airless and insular quality that adds to the sense of dread. Director Fleur Fortune does a particularly good job of occasionally filming Mia and Aaryan through cracks in the door, to indicate they are always being watched. And then there’s that mysterious flashback (flashforward?) of a child drowning.
Things go slightly off the rails when Virginia throws a dinner party, meant to rattle Aaryan and Mia. A lot of complicated backstory is thrown at us—one of the guests was apparently in a relationship with Aaryan; another was a boss that Mia slept with—and frankly I couldn’t follow it all. (It does, at least, give Minnie Driver a chance to gleefully ham it up as a New World Karen.) There’s also an eerily self-possessed child, about 10 or so, in attendance. Her parents apparently passed the Assessment.
The Assessment is a provocative and sometimes squirm-inducingly funny sci-fi that gives its three leads lots of juicy material to chew on, with Vikander, in particular, turning her Virginia into a compellingly inscrutable, but not entirely unsympathetic, antagonist.
It will have you asking how far you would go to get a baby—and if you and your partner could pass Virginia’s sadistic test.