If I were a Hollywood star, I would do like Nicolas Cage and spend 150 million dollars in seven years to buy a dinosaur skeleton, a haunted mansion, a Lamborghini that once belonged to the Shah of Persia. I would also have a real pyramid built in my garden and get a pair of albino crocodiles, and obviously, I would proudly display a couple of pygmy skulls inside my house. I can't understand why I should do otherwise. After all, I mean, that's how Hollywood works, right? Otherwise, you stay home and maybe play Balthazar in your parish's living nativity scene when Christmas comes.
Clearly, the direct consequence of this situation is also a certain debt situation with the tax authorities, and for this reason, Nicolas now accepts practically any film he's offered, regardless of the genre. It should be said though that Cage over the years has shown that he might not be the number one actor in Hollywood, but he can certainly handle films that are radically different from each other. In this science fiction film set in a dystopian future and directed by Rob W. King, Nicholas Cage is an investigative agent for an association that, in a post-apocalyptic dimension of the USA following an unspecified crisis, assesses whether the country's inhabitants earn more than they consume in a social structure where the "law of the strongest" openly prevails.
The film is titled "The Humanity Bureau" and has the typical structure of a sci-fi thriller. When Noah Kross (Nicholas Cage) becomes aware of the world he lives in and the organization he works for, he rebels against the association and flees to Canada (where there seem to be uncontaminated areas and living freely is still possible) with a woman and a child who should have been arrested by the Bureau. His former companions will do everything to stop him and prevent him from rebelling and escaping a system whose flaws and secrets slowly begin to crumble, leading to an inevitable and uncontrollable popular uprising. Ultimately, nothing more than a low-intensity action movie set in a classic dystopian context that always works even if the story doesn't have much to say and ends so abruptly that you wonder if that's all there is. It's as if a piece is missing, which maybe once was there but was cut out of the film and added to Nicolas Cage's personal collection, proudly displayed in his living room between one pygmy skull and another.
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