Theo and Julian lost a child, throwing their marriage into its own upheaval, and the pain is still just under the surface, as is shown in a scene between the two on a bus that quickly turns into an argument. While the script seems to be heading in a certain direction with the two, one event fairly early in the film shatters multiple expectations as to what it will be about. The screenplay shatters a few other expectations—the plot's multiple double-crosses leave a lot in doubt—and plays with formula. There's an ingenious scene where Theo, Kee, and Miriam (Pam Ferris), another of Kee's helpers, attempt to make a getaway in a car that won't start. Before that, there's an ambush sequence—seen entirely in a single, long take from the interior of a car—that pans out in unexpected but realistic ways. The high point in terms of action comes in an extended scene in an urban war zone. Cuarón and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki shoot from the hip in this sequence, giving it a frightening, almost documentary style (blood spattered on the camera just lingers there), and while the shot is divided by a few cuts, it amazingly plays like one, long seamless take.

Thematically, the film is simple but immensely poignant. Cuarón's inclusion of the immigration issue is timely, and a scene where Theo and Kee find their way into a "refugee camp" for undocumented immigrants is particularly unsettling. The film is wise in the way people enter or reenter our lives suddenly for no apparent reason and ultimately leave them with unresolved finality. Jasper raises the concept of faith and chance at play in the world, and while certainly a clichéd idea, it holds relevance within the story. The central theme, as corny as it sounds, is hope. The film doesn't needlessly ponder any of these ideas, instead marrying them directly to the story. The central concern, whether or not the child is born, is not the end of the film, and once the child's fate either way is sealed, the film starts affecting the spirit instead of the brain. For one long moment at the climax of the urban battle scene, everything comes to a standstill, and the emotional impact of that moment is overwhelming. Clive Owen is film's emotional center as Theo's apathetic shield slowly deteriorates as the world goes further to hell. A scene late in the film where Theo recalls a simple parenting technique is absolutely heart-wrenching.

While Cuarón's technical mastery in composing these images, choreographing organized chaos, and creating this world is astounding, it's his ability to elicit deeper significance and emotional weight out of these that remains long after the film is over. While it is still early in what is sure to be a long career, this could possibly turn out to be Cuarón's masterpiece, but however that turns out, Children of Men is a cinematic powerhouse.