For a Swedish film without a Hollywood budget, particularly science-fiction, you must admire the special effects and future-look presented. Presumably a luxury craft transporting people to a new life would look spic and span with clean lines more like some giant shopping mall geared to luxury for people who were heading into an unknown and Martian life. The technology of Mima is slightly mysterious throughout and presumably it some type of organic-based machine that can interact with the human brain but that is left to the viewer and this really is not a problem story-wise.

The acting, as far as I can tell, is good throughout and no hint of the histrionics we are are usually treated to in this type of film, especially when ‘disaster’ strikes the control room is quiet calm and trying to figure out what to do. Taking notes Ron ‘shouty arm-waving’ Howard? It was refreshing to see there was a tough situation being faced in the ship’s control room without shouting, screaming and foot stamping. Like real life. Clearly the dialogue is in Swedish and I, being the dumb-arsed British person I am can hardly speak English, so I have no idea if the actors were delivering corny lines and overacting but their body language and general demeanour would say not, so I’m going with that view.

Apparently, the film is based entirely on well-known Swedish poem written in 1956 at a time when some people believed we would not even get to the moon let alone protracted space travel or ‘emigration’ to a new world. So it comes as some surprise that a film based on this premise made in 2018 still features conceits in that work. Would the people in charge be fully aware of space debris and plan around that before risking thousands of people’s lives? Would what appeared to be an Allen bolt cause that much damage? Jet passenger planes have three back-ups for every system but a massive passenger-carrying space craft does not? How would they survive on algae and where does the water come from? All these questions and others will be answered by someone with more time on their hands and who is more worried about it than me. To fair to Aniara you can do this with every futuristic type story and corners are often cut for expedience and other eminently sensible and budgetary reasons.

What Aniara tries to be about is the human condition and much deeper themes than adventures in space. Take civilised people away from their world, put them in another world that is limited and self-contained. Take away their hope and what happens? Lord of the Flies meets Alien – or something. The entire story is anchored on Jonsson's Mimaroben and it is to her credit that this anchor is strong and firm and keeps you watching. The supporting cast are all strong and believable with no real heroes or villains although Arvin Kananian as the captain Chefone is a near as you get to this but even his character is placed in a very difficult situation and he never goes full on Sir Jasper Naughtybonce.

It would spoil the story to tell you how it progresses but it is no surprise to say that overall the feeling is bleak and downbeat and holds no great faith in human’s nature over the course of the situation. Being Swedish if you are offended by full-frontal nudity, male and female, lesbian sex, orgies, and the odd willy bonging about in your face this is not the science fiction for you.

Existential, challenging, depressing, mesmerising and infuriating Aniara is certainly not your ordinary science-fiction story, in a way you could say it is very Swedish and whilst I can see why some people would find it dull and lacking in peril or action, why does it have to be I may ask, it strikes me as a film that if you watch it to the conclusion you will not forget it in a hurry.

Right who is up for starting an orgy club? No one? Okay off to Sweden I go.