James MacTeigue
V per Vendetta

Panic is the only means that ensures obedience. Panic freezes you where you stand and leaves you there. In truth, we all know this, yet no one seems to notice; indeed, it's with our panic that they catch us off guard.

In a dystopian and futuristic Great Britain (not that much), a party rises to power after chemical attacks (not so dystopian). The first thought of the new chancellor is dictatorship and consequently to persecute all diversities (sexual, racial) as all dictators—lost in their boredom—tend to do.   
A genetically modified man has discovered, has understood, what a normal man would never grasp: it's ME who exists, the rest is just superstructure, and to hell with it. The man, the alien within us, decides to blow up the parliament on the night of November 5th, as Guy Fawkes attempted in vain, but not before avenging those who made him bitter and not before meeting love (Natalie Portman).

All dystopian productions end up resembling each other, and V for Vendetta has several references, but that's not what's important. The film, based on a comic and adapted for the screen by the Wachowski Brothers, unlike the majority of dystopian novels that have a foundation far removed from reality (Big Brother's obsessive cameras, Bradbury's book burnings), starts from our present day, starts from the death that sets spirits, from the death of innocents which is always good for justifying political decisions. There it is, our reality, where lives seem only a means to something (glory, personal power, joy) and never just lives by themselves, all unworthy and all necessary.

In short, this 2005 film is almost didactic of our events, but not predictable. It investigates our days well without starting from afar, without taking the long way around, with courage and urgency: much better than many ultra-acclaimed dystopian works. It's just a shame about the ending that leaves you with a clean conscience, washing your hope briefly.