"It seems like a mere attempt at being controversial rather than a sincere effort to create a thought-provoking feature..."

Appearing at the annual London Sci-Fi Festival, Clone has had to change it's name from the original title of "Womb" to suit its British audience, because evidently the word "Womb" is too much for us Brits, but a plot-line consisting of a woman giving birth to her own boyfriend isn't.

Benedek Fliegauf's production focuses on the story of Rebecca, depicted as a young child by Ruby O. Fee, who has an unconditional bond with her local neighbour Thomas (Tristan Christopher), yet their blossoming friendship is halted when Rebecca moves to Japan to live with her mother.

However she returns over a decade later (as Eva Green) and seeks to find Thomas (Matt Smith) and rekindle their friendship, yet their reintroduction results in the pair becoming involved in a sexual relationship. Not long after Thomas is tragically killed in a car accident, leaving Rebecca all alone - yet in the parallel universe in which Clone is set - Rebecca is able to bring her partner back to life, by giving birth to him, as he must begin his life over again. Yet despite raising Thomas as her son, Rebecca finds herself developing sexual feelings for a man she had once been in love with, as she must find a way to withhold her desires and avoid confronting Thomas as to who he really is, affectively ruining his relationship with his new girlfriend Monica (Hannah Murray).

In what proves to be a blatant attempt to be as obscene as possible, Fliegauf has presented a feature that certainly triggers a response from his viewers, as right from the very beginning he tests the audiences resolve, as he portrays both Rebecca and Thomas as sexual objects, despite their tender ages. However this distasteful production doesn't feel like a film that questions your sensitivity but instead appears as a film that is merely being indecent for the sake of being indecent. Fliegauf is simply trying too hard to create a film that pushes the boundaries, yet it seems like a mere attempt at being controversial rather than a sincere effort to create a thought-provoking feature.

Fliegauf shoots himself in the foot by talking a minimalist, almost art-house approach, in a film that would certainly benefit from being relatively more absurd. It's slow burning and serene, which despite enhancing the notion of loneliness emanating from the lead roles, its pensive nature simply leads to tedium. Such a style simply doesn't suit this film because if you're going to present an absurd hypothetical tale you have to revel in your ludicrousness - you are asking for the suspension of the audiences disbelief after-all. Ideas such as this need to thrive in their own absurdity and play up to it - like the Human Centipede for example - because when taking yourself too seriously, all you are doing is devaluing your own project.

Having said that, the idea is unique and original and certainly thought provocative, and Fliegauf must be credited for the way his film deviates away from the scientific aspects to the story and focuses more closely on human relations which is somewhat  more interesting. Another positive is the performance of Green who shines as Rebecca, in what is somewhat of a difficult character to come to terms with, as a lonely, dejected woman who is so desperate to rekindle her love for her deceased parter that she entertains the idea of forming a sexual relationship with him once more, yet as her son. As a result there are many layers to this role and Green manages to encapsulate them all.

Clone is just too forcefully controversial and for such an intriguing and expansive premise so much more could be done as it's difficult not to leave feeling unsatisfied with so many questions left unanswered. The film's tag-line is "What are the consequences of giving birth to your own boyfriend?", and the answer is, unfortunately, a very bad movie.