Eddington’s utter scorn for political extremism and performativity may leave many alienated, assuming the runtime doesn’t already do so. However, for those with an open mind, the film has a great deal to say about egotism, faux outrage, and the ease with which misinformation can poison entire communities.
When one reflects on the past decade, divisiveness is likely one of the first words that comes to mind. We live in an unparalleled era of tribalism and division, with bitter conflicts and tragedies ensuing partially due to our having seemingly lost our ability to find common ground. Such division, particularly in politics, is arguably stocked and elongated by monstrous egos. This is something that Ari Aster’s newest film, Eddington, explores particularly closely, turning in a movie that’s morbidly surreal and deeply satirical, although it’s also, ironically, likely to cause division.
Set in the fictional town of Eddington, New Mexico, the story takes place in mid-2020 during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. Mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal) has implemented a tough lockdown and a mask mandate that disrupts the lives of the people of Eddington, but is nonetheless necessary to protect them from the COVID-19 virus.
Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix), Eddington’s police sheriff, disagrees with this decision, seeing it as a violation of personal freedom. He lives with his mentally unwell wife, Louise (Emma Stone) and his mother-in-law, Dawn (Deirdre O’Connell), a rampant conspiracy theorist who baselessly questions whether the virus is even real, something that influences Joe’s biases.
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Joe is portrayed as a weak man, and it’s hard to argue with this. Despite his position as police sheriff, his attempts to appear authoritative are more commonly met with dismissal if not outright mockery. He can’t connect with his wife and easily cowers to Dawn’s delusional ranting and raving. Yet, after witnessing an unmasked man being asked to leave a supermarket, Joe foolishly decides to run for mayor. This is to the chagrin of Louise, Ted, and the townsfolk, who generally don’t take him seriously, but Joe’s decision begins a downward spiral of events that become increasingly bizarre and violent.
Telling a story within the framework of the COVID-19 pandemic is still somewhat rocky. It’s arguably the most significant event of many people’s lifetimes, and the wound is still pretty fresh. Other movies set during the pandemic, notably 2022’s The Bubble, fail precisely because they use the event merely as a cheap jumping-off point. Eddington, on the other hand, recognises how the pandemic became a breeding ground for division.
While many understood the gravity of the event and tried to stay safe, others, selfishly, naively, or both, put themselves and others at risk under the guise of championing their own or their neighbours’ “freedom”. In using this as the conflict, with Ted and Joe representing differing views on the pandemic and, by extension, different political views, Aster explores the ease with which people fall into extremism, as well as how fragile egos fuel such divisive fires.
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Aster previously helmed the horror films Hereditary, Midsommar, and Beau is Afraid. While they vary in quality, they all capture unnerving atmospheres remarkably well. Despite it being a dark comedy neo-Western, Eddington is no exception. Wide shots encompass how the empty streets and scattered gatherings have become a battleground for these two men’s egos, while tracking shots, particularly in accompaniment with Joe, allow the negative feelings to brew. It traps us in the world of Eddington as tensions increasingly rise and the citizens, as well as the two would-be mayors, make their stances known. As the consequences become increasingly strange and actions become increasingly unforgivable, the film revels in the disturbing reality that when politics is left to the whims of extremism, no one is truly safe.
Real-world events start to fracture people’s already low trust in Joe, namely the Black Lives Matter protests in the wake of George Floyd’s murder. This inflames the younger populations of Eddington into joining the protests, which begins the film’s exploration of political tribalism and grifting. Cases can be made for the film being either liberal or conservative. Still, this critic would argue that it primarily scrutinises right-wing egomania while acknowledging that the left is just as capable of egotism, albeit in a more sanctimonious than actively dangerous way. Whatever your political beliefs, extremism and grifting can easily transform someone who is otherwise well-intended or misguided into somebody unrecognisable.
Compelling character work is created here, particularly Joe, who is as fascinating as he is pathetic. He’s a man who desperately craves power, or at least respect, due to the lack of it or the façade of it in his home and work lives, respectively. Yet because he’s so cripplingly self-pitying, he’s unable to get out of his own way, becoming more extreme as he attempts to shape the world to fit his ridiculous beliefs rather than vice versa. This includes being in denial about COVID, even when it’s clear he has it. You feel pity and disgust for him simultaneously, particularly when he blatantly lies about Ted to gain an advantage, which ultimately backfires. It’s a terrific turn from Phoenix, whose clumsy mannerisms add humanity to what is otherwise a repulsive person.
In Joe’s interactions with other characters, the film’s themes of political division come into bloom. Ted is well-meaning, but his focus on tech-friendly campaigns and corny promotional ads does make him seem somewhat disingenuous, a quality that is further highlighted by Pascal’s charm. The Black Lives Matter protests bring many out in anger, but it’s not always clear whether their reasons for supporting the movement are driven by genuine concern or a desire for attention, which the use of many recognisable buzzwords highlights in the arc of the character Brian (Cameron Mann).
All the while, COVID and violence run rampant, showing no mercy to either side. The message is a chilling one – that playing politics to boost your ego will only end with division, incompetent leaders, the death of truth, and misery for all but a select few.
Occasionally, this teeters on the edge of “both sides-ing”, which is regressive for anyone interested in political debate. Yet the film’s portrayal of Joe in a pitiful light showcases how it is not downplaying COVID or the importance of the truth, regardless of one’s politics. Nevertheless, the film is bloated. At 2.5 hours, the film falls into the trap of having its cake and eating it too, as it attempts to cover so many points of debate across the political spectrum that it inevitably fails to do justice to all of them.
For all its sage points on the fallacies of conspiracy theories and the dangers of misinformation, it falls at the hurdle when it comes to topics like gun control or the cult of personalities, a role given to Austin Butler’s character. That it culminates in a fiery finale is on brand for Aster, but doesn’t feel wholly earned, especially when the true fire of the film came from Joe’s inability to separate the actual needs of the community from the needs of his own ego.
Eddington’s utter scorn for political extremism and performativity may leave many alienated, assuming the runtime doesn’t already do so. However, for those with an open mind, the film has a great deal to say about egotism, faux outrage, and the ease with which misinformation can poison entire communities. It doesn’t explore its multitude of themes with as much depth as it would like, but, at its best, Eddington is as visceral in its decrying of ego and division as it is decisively eerie in its craft. It’s a suitably off-kilter new entry into the canon of Ari Aster pictures.
Eddington is released in cinemas nationwide on August 22.
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