THE STORY – During the COVID-19 pandemic, a standoff between a small-town sheriff and mayor sparks a powder keg as neighbor is pitted against neighbor in Eddington, N.M.
THE CAST – Joaquin Phoenix, Pedro Pascal, Luke Grimes, Deirdre O’Connell, Micheal Ward, Austin Butler & Emma Stone
THE TEAM – Ari Aster (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 145 Minutes
In the span of only seven years, Ari Aster has given us now four feature films and cemented himself as one of the most talked about and well-regarded American filmmakers working today. With endorsements from Martin Scorsese and his films establishing their roots within the horror community, Aster has become one of the flagbearers for studio A24 (who he has made all four of his feature films with), representing a true spirit of what independent American filmmaking should be all about: taking risks and pushing audiences into uncomfortable territory to confront a more profound truth beneath the surface than what other conventional filmmakers would be willing to provide. While “Hereditary” and “Midsommar” received positive critical and audience notices, his third feature, “Beau Is Afraid.” divided literally everyone. It was his most ambitious film yet, breaking away from the traditional horror genre he started his career in but still digging deep inside our most basic fears and insecurities and putting them up on the screen. Aster’s latest film, “Eddington,” continues this trend with his signature blend of anxiety and delirium, capturing the surreal chaos of America during the pandemic of 2020 with haunting clarity and a tragicomic sharpness that cuts deep.
In the sweltering heat of May 2020, as a global pandemic forces the nation into lockdown, distrust about COVID-19 and the government spreads like wildfire online as people endlessly doomscroll Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. In the small, fictional desert town of Eddington, New Mexico (population 2,345), what begins as a heated mayoral race between conservative sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix) and progressive incumbent Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal) quickly escalates into a town-wide standoff of civil unrest. Neighbors, families, and factions clash over masks, mandates, technology, and the very nature of truth as law and order spiral out of control. The no-mask-wearing Sheriff Cross, a principled but increasingly disillusioned lawman, mounts a grassroots campaign opposing Garcia’s tech-driven plan to build a controversial AI data center in the desert, which will eat away at the land’s resources. But their civic dispute soon ignites into an ideological firestorm, stoked by misinformation, racial tensions inflamed by the Black Lives Matter movement, and the psychological toll of isolation. As the town fractures, Joe’s wife, Louise (Emma Stone), trapped in a suffocating home with her conspiracy-obsessed mother (Deidre O’Connell), finds escape in a cult-like religious online guru (Austin Butler) who claims to be a spiritual healer. Meanwhile, Joe’s loyal deputies, the ambitious Guy Tooley (Luke Grimes) and conflicted Black officer Michael Cooke (Micheal Ward) struggle with moral dilemmas as protests erupt and Joe’s behavior grows increasingly erratic.
When the history books inevitably ask, how did America, the once revered, great nation that others could luck up to end up here? One might someday point to Ari Aster’s latest as the unfortunate but completely reasonable answer. COVID truly messed with everyone to some degree or another, no matter which aisle of the political divide you found yourself on. Lives and minds were lost in equal measure, and we have never been the same since. The tagline for the film says, “Hindsight is 2020” and five years removed, now does feel like a good time to hold up the looking glass and start asking some reflective questions. 2021’s “Don’t Look Up,” which examined our lunacy revolving around climate change, sought to change hearts and minds by luring in “the other side” with a film starring Hollywood A-list talent. Here, it’s not about preaching or talking down to anyone in hopes of changing their viewpoints politically or ideologically. We are where we are, and there is no going back. So, we might as well highlight its absurdity. To that end, “Eddington” fits in perfectly with Ari Aster’s other films as another commentary on our paranoia and fears, granting us not only a darkly comic modern Western or the definitive film about the pandemic but maybe the most unflinchingly accurate portrait today of how extremely America has spiraled into delusion, hysteria, and unapologetic selfishness. Make no mistake about it: when “The Newsroom’s” Will McAvoy famously tells young students in the HBO series’ first episode, “America is not the greatest country in the world anymore,” this time he’s actually right, and “Eddington” is the proof. And much like the Aaron Sorkin-penned series, Aster approaches this material with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. You won’t find any ambiguous theories or confused viewers as you did with “Beau Is Afraid.” “Eddington” is far more straightforward in its narrative, for better or worse. The time for talk is over. The time for change has passed. This is the reality we live in now, where every aspect of our daily lives is recorded and projected out for the rest of the world to see whether it is against our will or not. TikTok videos are spreading conspiracy theories with millions of views by the day, and people are desperately seeking not only an answer to their pain but, more importantly, someone to blame. What begins as a damning political commentary morphs into a murder investigation before descending into full-blown madness by the end. “Eddington” packs a lot into its two-and-a-half-hour narrative. Although it may not expose anything revelatory about our self-serving behavior and worst impulses during this time or events that led to this point, it serves as a compelling snapshot.
Despite the fun supporting performances of Emma Stone and Austin Butler being cut short, Joaquin Phoenix once again proves himself to be the ideal instrument for Ari Aster’s deranged vision. Here, he gives such a brilliant performance of a selfish sheriff, ignorant towards masks, other people’s misfortune and discontent, and in a loveless marriage with his wife who refuses to have a child with him, who somehow manages to keep falling upward and growing darker and darker in his decision-making. He truly is one of our greatest living actors. When the camera tracks him in a oner stopping at a party Pascal is hosting to turn down the loud music (blasting Katy Perry’s “Firework,” of all things), you’re constantly on edge as Phoenix is the kind of unpredictable performer who can hold the audience’s attention with his pathetic character’s stillness or could lash out any moment due to how much he’s bubbling suppressed rage on the inside. And in the third act, when everything dissolves into a full-blown ANTIFA conspiracy turned reality (equipped with an exorbitant amount of violent firepower), Phoenix still manages to get us to root for a character so unlikable, only further highlighting just what a once-in-a-lifetime generational talent he really is.
“Eddington” is undoubtedly overstuffed, darkly humorous (though, it must be said, for as much as it seemingly takes inspiration from the Coen Bros. work, it pales in comparison to capturing the duo’s ear for comedy and quirky characters), and unafraid to piss people off. It’s a new kind of horror for Aster, one that hits close to home and deservedly so. In a world where facts, the truth, and reality are questioned on a daily basis, “Eddington” asks whether we can still meet eye to eye or if we’ve already passed the point of no return. Sadly, we and I believe Aster know the answer, which might make this a fruitless endeavor for audiences to embark on for such a stretched-out runtime; needless to say, having to relive what was, for many, a very traumatic time in our lives. Hell, we might even be asking to make America great again someday, given its current state, but we know deep down in the darkest corners of our black hearts, it never was to begin with, and it sure as shit ain’t now.
