Eddington

A cinematic trip back to the spring of 2020 feels like reopening old wounds in Eddington, which in the end isn’t really about mask mandates or the COVID-19 pandemic or George Floyd.

Instead, director Ari Aster (Midsommar) uses those elements as a flashpoint for an exaggerated look at a societal breakdown triggered by paranoia, xenophobia, pervasive ideological division, social media conspiracies, knee-jerk activism, mental illness, and institutional corruption.

Accented by Western influences in its structure and setting, the film is audacious and morally complex. However, it’s also more muddled than provocative, lacking a satirical edge to its otherwise heavy-handed subtext.

It’s set in a fictional New Mexico town, where the primary skeptic to statewide health protocols is sheriff Joe (Joaquin Phoenix), whose rationale ostensibly stems from his asthma.

The ensuing hubbub ramps up a feud with the mayor (Pedro Pascal), who seems more interested in securing a contract for a massive tech facility on the outskirts of Eddington than catering to the locals.

Joe has issues at home, too, with his wife (Emma Stone) having become withdrawn due to unresolved trauma, turning to a quack healer (Austin Butler) for comfort.

As a defiant Joe challenges the mayor in his re-election campaign, which causes his behavior to become unhinged, Eddington becomes immersed in Black Lives Matter protests that divide the allegiances of his deputies (Micheal Ward and Luke Grimes).

Suddenly, he’s forced to confront a host of unforeseen challenges due to white privilege and guilt, departmental overreach, and his own skewed worldview that he can’t reconcile. The situation simmers to an eventual boil with Joe caught in the middle, mostly of his own volition.

A stylish and immersive examination of power and greed, the film often feels relentlessly bleak while presenting an unsympathetic collection of anarchic rogues and unscrupulous opportunists driven to violence and tragedy.

Led by Phoenix, reuniting with Aster following Beau Is Afraid, the fully committed performances bring depth and conviction to otherwise uneven and meandering material.

Challenging us to be uncomfortable, Aster’s aimless screenplay digs at both sides politically while leaving room for hope amid the cynicism. How did everybody become so angry, and what is the path back to civility and coexistence? The film doesn’t supply easy answers.

Eddington clearly has a lot on its mind. But like Joe, the film struggles to articulate exactly what it’s trying to say.

Rated R, 148 minutes.