In the near future, humanity will begin moving people to orbital space stations and other planets as Earth undergoes catastrophic climate change. Married couple Junior and Henrietta live on a rural farm in the Midwest, and are approached by Terrence, a representative from a corporation that plans to send Junior to work on an orbital space station for two years.
As tantalising as the premise of a sci-fi romantic drama with two of the hottest young stars of the day might be, 'Foe' exists in that state permanently. It's almost there, but it never reaches it. There's an ethereal beauty in how Garth Davis leaves the camera to linger on landscapes, on the gorgeous decay, on the quiet moments between Mescal and Ronan's characters, but all of it ultimately is fleeting and wispy.
Saoirse Ronan and Paul Mescal light up the screen together, and their chemistry together and physical dynamic is enough to power 'Foe' through the tedium of its own making. Mescal's performance ranges from violent and thunderous, to vulnerable and aching. Ronan, meanwhile, plays so much of her performance in the eyes, capturing all of the hope, hurt and anguish of years wasted in an ultimately doomed relationship.
'Foe' looks stunning in every shot. Mátyás Erdély's cinematography evokes the kind of pained, fleeting beauty of Terence Malick, helped along by Mescal and Ronan comfortably standing in for Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek ala ''. Even when the movie transitions towards clunky sci-fi, there's still a kind of softness to it that helps it along. For all of this, however, and the performers, 'Foe' buckles under the weight of its own pretension.
'Foe' may have two striking lead performances, and a lot of ambition in its script, but as much as it strives for soulful sci-fi, there's a flatness to it somewhere along the way that becomes impossible to ignore. Not only that, it botches the ending entirely and despite all of the goodwill generated by its cast and its visuals, you find that you walk away from 'Foe' strangely unmoved.