SILENCE and darkness. From the void, a whisper of wind. Then we see distant hills beneath a vast layer of menacing grey cloud. An object begins to fill the sky — its ambiguous geometry suggests a colossal spacecraft. The sound segues into an eerie choral effect and a voice urges us to “listen patiently.”

Good advice, because Last and First Men is an unhurried and complex contemplation of loss, memory and the mysteries of existence. Based on the 1930 novel of the same name by British philosopher, sf writer and Common Wealth Party member Olaf Stapledon, the film explores the history of humanity in the near and distant future.

There is no cast apart from a narrator, the visuals are abstract and the tone falls somewhere between academic dissertation and parable. It ought to be pretentious and dull but it works brilliantly.

The visuals are beautifully composed black-and-white footage of spomenik, stone monuments of the former Yugoslavian republics, commemorating the region’s tragic history and symbolising a yearning for unity.

There are spires, domes and what looks like a stack of building blocks. Some sculptures resemble wheels, others the limbs of a massive robot. Their remote mountain locations, neglect and alien appearance provides the perfect symbolism for a story concerning the creative urge, the threat of extinction and the fragility of human civilisation.

Director Johann Johannsson, who died before the film’s final edit and release, was an accomplished musician, arranger and composer. The stark and dreamlike imagery is heightened by his sorrowful and strangely melodic score, a blend of traditional and electronic sound.

The voiceover, delivered with crisp, formal serenity by the actor Tilda Swinton, is key to conveying Stapledon’s ideas. The narrator speaks to us from two billion years in the future and describes, in the style of a documentary voiceover, the evolution of the 18th — and final — species of humans and considers their society, philosophies and aspirations.

Humanity, pushed to its last refuge on the planet Neptune, faces extinction due to a collision of the sun with a cloud of non-luminous gas. The “last men,” unable to propel their planet away from the impending cosmic calamity, plan to spread life to other worlds in the form of a sentient virus.

The story is packed with challenging ideas about human folly, perfectibility, extracting meaning from tragedy and the need to pursue the notion of utopia, even if it proves to be unattainable.

Sadly, this was Johannsson’s only feature film. A brilliant and idiosyncratic integration of image, sound design and script, this illuminating and engaging treatment of a science-fiction classic deserves the widest possible audience.

Available from the British Film Institute, player.bfi.org.uk