
In Never Let Me Go, Mark Romanek's austerely beautiful adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro's novel, life has a sell-by date, humans have a shelf life and death arrives in accordance with somebody else's schedule. You are a body to be plundered and mined for parts; get used to it. The clones of Never Let Me Go are perhaps the most sympathetic creatures of their kind yet depicted on film; children bred and farmed for profit and the health of others, but who teem with the hormones, anxieties and doubts of "normal" children. The few glimpses and rumours of the wider world we are offered suggest it is riven with medical horrors – eugenics, experiments, organ trafficking. The clones are a dirty open secret benefiting a society that is no more eager to consider the source of fresh organs than they are to learn the name of the cows they prefer grilled medium-rare.
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