Each generation believes that its time is the worst. However, as a legacy of dystopian novels and films suggests, what we truly have to fear is where our society and technology are leading us. Gattaca, a stylish film from first-time director Andrew Niccol, forecasts an upsetting future based on scientific advances in genetics.

But Gattaca is not just a new techno-thriller in the vein of Michael Crichton. Like Orwell’s 1984 and Huxley’s Brave New World, Gattaca is the story of an individual trying to find his place in society. Combining a beautifully written narrative with arresting visuals, Gattaca succeeds as a captivating portrayal of the struggle of an ordinary man against forces beyond his control.

In a world in which most children are constructed in petri dishes from genetic traits selected by their parents, Vincent (Ethan Hawke) has a distinct disadvantage. He is damned by his own genes; he had the bad fortune of being conceived the natural way (that is, in the back seat of his parents’ car).

A blood analysis given at birth reveals a 99 percent chance that Vincent will die of heart disease by the age of 30. His weakened heart condition and genetic inferiority to his engineered peers places Vincent among an underclass of “in-valids,” who must fulfill society’s grunt work. Vincent dreams of exploring the stars, an honor reserved for the genetically superior, and he refuses to give up hope.

Though we see signs of new technology, Niccol’s portrayal of our future is firmly rooted in our past. Uniforms resemble suits from the 1940s, cars look like refinished classics and buildings reflect the great movements in 20th century architecture. As a centerpiece, the Marin County Civic Center, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, serves as the Gattaca Corporation building in the film.

Niccol resisted creating a future remarkably foreign from the present because the film hinges on similarities. The futuristic setting serves mainly to present a unique situation essential to the film: the possible implications of genetic engineering. The film refuses to pass judgment on the issue, letting the audience decide while entertaining us with a possible outcome.

Similar to the vision of the future Francois Truffaut presents in the film Fahrenheit 451, the future depicted in Gattaca is sleek, efficient and heavily stylized. The illusion is completed by the stunning camera work of Slawomir Idziak, whose use of filters and lighting gives the film a distinctive look that matches Vincent’s optimism.

Idziak’s award-winning cinematography, which brilliantly revealed the depths of inner turmoil in Krzysztof Kieslowski’s Blue, craftily manipulates the audience. While man clearly dominates science in the script, images of clear oceans, blue skies and the unconquerable vastness of space remind us of nature’s superiority.

As Vincent sees it, if he is cursed with a short life, he will make the most of it by fulfilling his dreams. To achieve what the genetically advantaged can do naturally, Vincent must work 10 times as hard.

Enter Jerome Eugene Morrow (Jude Law), a genetically superior specimen whose potential is ruined after suffering a paralyzing accident. Brought together by a mysterious man who deals in identity swapping, Eugene and Vincent agree to begin an elaborate deception technique that should allow Vincent to gain access to the Gattaca space program.

British actor Law delivers a powerful performance as a character constantly plagued by simultaneous feelings of camaraderie and jealousy. Eugene can be pathetic at times, though he possesses a surprising strength that seems to have grown from his handicap.

Posing as Jerome Morrow, Vincent quickly demonstrates his high level of potential and is selected as one of the crew members on the next space mission. Just when everything seems to be going right, the director of the space mission is murdered days before the scheduled launch. The only piece of evidence can be genetically traced to Vincent.

Assigned to the case, Irene (Uma Thurman) finds herself drawn to “Jerome” in the course of the investigation. In a relationship characterized by the coldness of their environment, Vincent and Irene seem distant even as companions. Their love springs from a need for human contact in a world where it is virtually impossible.

Though the elements of mystery and romance draw the audience further into the story, their presence sometimes provides jarring interruptions in the film’s flow. The movie could easily have found more appropriate material in the unlikely partnership of Vincent and Eugene. Instead, it shied away from a deeper look at the psychological issues for the quick thrill of a murder mystery.

Vincent spends every day in an atmosphere in which his true genetic identity can be uncovered with something as insignificant as an eyelash. This premise gives the film enough suspense to hook us until we know whether he will achieve his goal or be discovered trying. The added distraction of a murder is more of an insult to the audience than an added thrill.

All things considered, Gattaca is a refreshingly unique film. The movie is well-crafted and extremely entertaining, with a look and feel that distinguishes it from most science fiction films. In his remarkable screenplay, Niccol created a fascinating world different from our own, yet frighteningly similar. His skillful adaptation of his script to the finished film is proof that Niccol’s talent far surpasses what could be attributed to beginner’s luck.