Review of the Postmodern Film “Digger”

The 2026 film “Digger” presents a postmodern climate apocalypse where viewers can shape their own interpretations of truth. Yet, one version—mainly articulated by a Texas oil tycoon character—receives little attention until he confronts an imagined European tribunal, directly voicing a controversial perspective.

In this quirky climate satire by filmmaker Alejandro González Iñárritu, Tom Cruise plays Digger Rockwell, who spends much of his time wielding his grandfather’s shovel to drill for oil while strangely holding a decomposing cat. The film operates as a postmodern take on reality, effectively delivering its message without subtlety. Rockwell, a caricature of the archetypal Texas oil executive—a figure defined by his wealth, Southern roots, aggressive Christian values, and a staunch commitment to continued drilling—becomes a recognizable villain, one the audience is primed to distrust.

The portrayal of Digger’s Christianity is particularly scornful. It comes off not as a sincere belief system but rather as just another aspect of his exaggerated persona: loud, provincial, and, honestly, a bit ridiculous, further deepening the audience’s skepticism.

However, “Digger” isn’t simply what it seems. Much of Rockwell’s narrative unfolds within a fictional play, “Fossil Fools,” which is performed for an audience situated in the very climate-apocalyptic future depicted in the film. Once the play-within-a-film premise becomes clear, the exaggerated characters and ludicrous politicians make more sense. Even the musical score humorously juxtaposes serious moments, adding a comedic layer to impending doom.

The film eloquently argues that climate disasters become spectacle, which in turn becomes theater, eventually resembling history. This postmodern argument is intentional. Following the ideas of philosopher Jean-François Lyotard, who was skeptical of grand narratives, the film suggests there isn’t a reality existing outside the narratives we construct. Each character—be it a politician, climate activist, or Rockwell—holds their own version of truth, causing perspectives and political narratives to compete continually. It becomes increasingly challenging to distinguish between truth and performance.

Despite its fascination with constructed narratives, “Digger” provides Rockwell with a certain confidence. He isn’t just a businessman; he embodies a set of cultural stereotypes—wealthy, Southern, Christian, oil-producing—armed with his grandfather’s familiar shovel. It’s as if he doesn’t merely need to be wrong; he needs to resemble the type of figure the audience has already been told is erroneous. This illustrates postmodern politics in action: it claims all truths are situated while shielding its own caricatures from critique.

When Rockwell is finally confronted by an assembly intent on condemning him for environmental damage, he doesn’t refute their claims outright. Instead, he twists their arguments back at them, pointing out that they demanded oil while he simply supplied it.

Amid its exploration of competing truths, one scene starkly addresses a persistent reality: society relies on oil. Companies don’t produce vast amounts of crude out of mere fascination with the process; they do so because there is demand. Oil powers vehicles and fuels industries; the very societies denouncing fossil fuels often expect conveniences like cheap travel and rapid delivery of goods.

There’s nothing immoral about generating energy for profit. In fact, abundant energy has historically been tied to industrial progress, economic growth, and improved living standards. Yet, “Digger” seems to suggest that being part of this energy system warrants shame. Energy markets, like any market, respond to what consumers want. Politicians, protesters, and even Hollywood can denounce oil magnates, but at the end of the day, someone still purchases the oil. Someone has to keep the lights on.

It’s intriguing that a film preoccupied with narrative construction tends to overlook the reality it portrays. Instead, it drifts back into mere spectacle. This film’s politics seem more at ease fabricating a narrative around energy than directly engaging with the complexities of energy itself. It confidently identifies the villain and the images that should shock us, yet it struggles with the question Rockwell poses: what were these people supposed to do instead?

Moving away from fossil fuels means reexamining everything reliant on their power. Electricity still needs to be produced, planes will still need fuel, and freight transportation remains essential. Factories continue to demand energy, and petrochemicals are ingrained in modern life. Alternatives to these resources would require substantial infrastructure, raw materials, investment, and difficult choices. There’s no simple switch labeled “fossil fuels” for civilization to flip off. Addressing this fundamental challenge isn’t something the climate narrative fully engages with; it’s easier to vilify a caricature of a Southern oilman.

In the end, “Digger” provides a visual, rather than argumentative, response to Rockwell. As the performance concludes, the theater audience rises, and as they put on their masks, they’re confronted with the dystopian reality the film has warned of. This climactic image holds considerable weight and serves its purpose, yet it also neatly sidesteps the nuanced discussion brought up earlier: yes, producers and consumers alike have contributed to the energy system the film critiques, but it seeks refuge in the chaos of impending disaster. The masks become the primary agents of dialogue.

This oddity reflects a truth that may be more revealing than what the filmmakers anticipated. Everybody is performing—in the political arena, corporations display virtues, activists invoke warnings, and consumers denounce an energy system while still participating in it. Hollywood dramatizes apocalypse and then presents it as moral guidance.

However, beneath the performance lies a stark reality: civilization consumes vast amounts of energy, and every method of production comes with its own set of tradeoffs. Postmodern viewpoints can be advantageous here because they allow preferred narratives to persist despite this harsh truth. If all perspectives are just constructions, the narrative that blames the oilman while ignoring the barrel bought by the audience can conveniently evade scrutiny.

While “Digger” aims to leave viewers pondering the impacts of fossil fuels, my thoughts drifted elsewhere. When characters don their masks and step into the film’s grim future, they seem all too aware of where to place the blame. After Rockwell’s rebuttal, the film fails to address why they should not also hold themselves accountable.