Eddington: A Gritty and Lackluster Satire
Ari Aster’s latest film feels like a laborious, somewhat pretentious take on satire, tackling themes like community lockdowns, conspiracy theories, and social divisions. It’s an oddly flavorless mix, offering a strange blend of humor but ultimately leaving a heavy feeling.
The visuals, thanks to Darius Khondji, are appealing, yet there’s nothing groundbreaking here. Surprisingly, even talented actors like Emma Stone, Pedro Pascal, and Joaquin Phoenix fail to shine, which seems to stem from a sluggish pacing stretched across a runtime that feels more suited for a longer series than a film.
Set in the fictional town of Eddington in New Mexico, which is near Native American territory, the story kicks off as the community goes into lockdown. While there’s a mention of the current political atmosphere, former President Trump is curiously absent from the conversation. Mayor Ted Garcia (played by Pascal) and Sheriff Joe Cross (Phoenix) add some intrigue to the otherwise dry narrative.
As the mayor emphasizes strict mask mandates, Sheriff Cross defiantly refuses, arguing that the mayor will back a major “online server farm.” There’s a tense undercurrent as the relationships between characters unfold. The mayor shares a complicated history with Cross’s wife, Louise (Emma Stone), and their family dynamics are anything but stable, filled with depression and a strange sense of claustrophobia.
Garcia’s teenage son, Eric (Matt Gomez Hidaka), is in a relationship with Sarah (Eilee Hofel), a social justice advocate, which adds another layer of tension to the unfolding drama. The film dives deep into boiling social issues, reflecting on events like the George Floyd protests and introducing the enigmatic cult leader, Vernon Jefferson Peak (Austin Butler), who prompts followers to confront distant memories of trauma.
Amidst all this, Sheriff Cross decides to run for mayor, stirring up the community to prepare for potential violent confrontations. This political rivalry between the two men hints at some comedy, especially through the mayor’s over-the-top television advertisements that portray him as an emotionally charged father.
The film’s sharp commentary on the sheriff’s department reveals its dark humor, with one officer making a crass remark about minority groups, showcasing a troubling mindset. When a Native American police officer, Butterfly Zimenez (William Bellow), joins the conversation, a colleague suggests looking into an “alcoholic domestic dispute” in relation to local casinos, epitomizing the film’s biting satire.
Nonetheless, much of this feels recycled. A peculiar Zoom town meeting scene verges on farcical, mirroring dismal online gatherings we’ve witnessed in reality. There’s a distinct lack of tension, drama, or any meaningful revelations. The film concludes with moments that feel inconclusive, leaving viewers wondering about Aster’s deeper intentions—perhaps he’s just waiting to find his footing once more.
