In a story that looks quite different, as it speaks of a world of stratified wars and tensions. A doctor moves to a skyscraper in London, but there will be a rising tension and class wars that will end with chaos. Perhaps the lives of the inhabitants of this tower may be running out because of all these tensions.
It's one of those works of futurism that seems simultaneously very prescient in its time, and slightly dated in ours. It underscores its points with a yellow highlighter.
This dystopian, apocalyptic tale of the downfall of civilization is set in a high rise apartment building. This can be viewed as a very dark comedy about how quickly society can break down, and how much fun that could be.
I soon found myself wanting to wash off the modernist stench of Wheatley's world. And yet it's entrancing all the same, so much so that like Laing and his fellows, I had no desire to leave the high-rise.
It could take decades for critics and audiences to appreciate whatever genius lurks behind the chaos, but for the time being, it seems like little more than madness.
High-Rise switches genres effortlessly - black humour one moment, dystopic parable the next - until it becomes its own singular, horrifying, immensely captivating thing.
