Ari Aster’s “Eddington” is a calculated exploration of emptiness. It poses as a commentary on the tumult of 2020, ultimately revealing that the unraveling of society cannot be easily rationalized amidst the noise of conspiracy theories, mask mandates, Black Lives Matter demonstrations, and the surge of viral content. Curious about the pathway to our current state? Don’t hold your breath—there are no clear answers.
This provocative film challenges its audience with contentious topics, particularly around racial divides, yet offers little of substance in terms of resolution. Perhaps that’s intentional. Consider the state of unrest and confusion ignited when lockdowns were imposed and masks became mandatory. Aster mixes all of this chaos into a narrative cocktail, resulting in a film that sharply divided critics at Cannes and is sure to elicit varied reactions in theaters this summer. Expect some engaging debates—some will praise its daring ambition as commendable, while others may label its racial commentary as reckless. This division may be exactly what Aster intends, reflecting the disarray of communities onto his viewers.
This film crosses genres yet maintains a contemporary Western foundation. The character Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix), a weary sheriff in the small town of Eddington, New Mexico, embodies the turmoil that existed before 2020 tipped the scales into upheaval. Aster positions the chaos of that time as the dark figure haunting this genre, stirring unrest among the townsfolk.
The local watering hole, run by Mayor Ted Garcia (Portrayed adeptly by Pedro Pascal), harbors a complicated past with Joe and an increasingly fraught present. Tensions arise further due to Garcia’s history with Joe’s wife, Louise (Emma Stone), and her mother, Dawn (Deirdre O’Connell), culminating in a fierce confrontation over the mask mandate. This clash ignites at a grocery store when Joe stands up for a local being expelled for not wearing a mask, particularly since Eddington has yet to report any Covid cases. Plus, who can breathe in those things?
In no time, Joe starts to leverage his anti-mask stance in a bid for Mayor, searching for meaning in his aimless life through increasingly absurd strategies. He decorates his car with outlandish conspiracy theories, highlighting a man desperate for recognition, one of many who saw political alignment in 2020 as a path to self-definition. The political backdrop intensifies Joe’s vulnerabilities, igniting an unpredictable, explosive behavior that spells impending violence, reinforcing Aster’s reputation for unflinching storytelling.
What themes does he confront? The pandemic is just the tip of the iceberg. The film opens with absurd conspiracy theories surrounding Covid, often voiced by Dawn, who disseminates these notions throughout the household. This pattern of anxious messaging reverberates through Aster’s oeuvre, repurposing the idea of mothers nurturing the fears within their sons. Louise finds herself entangled with a viral con artist (Austin Butler), who peddles empty rhetoric. Butler’s character feels underdeveloped, serving as one of several narrative twists that Aster sets up. He frequently veers from topics like COVID and BLM to political absurdity and charlatans, only to pivot abruptly to showcase characters engaging in ever more reckless and violent behavior.
Aster skillfully uses visual storytelling, particularly through the impressive cinematography of veteran Darius Khondji, whose work enhances the film’s satire and tension without overshadowing the narrative. Lucian Johnston’s editing ensures the lengthy film maintains a brisk pace, transitioning fluidly through intense exchanges. Aster’s cast delivers consistently strong performances, reminding viewers of Phoenix’s remarkable comedic timing, though some supporting roles come across as mere components rather than fully realized characters. The younger individuals who steer the impending violence—including actors like Micheal Ward, Luke Grimes, Cameron Mann, Matt Gomez Hidaka, and William Belleau—tend to appear as casualties of the plot rather than substantial participants, detracting from the emotional weight of the story.
A tale exploring law enforcement and societal rifts in May 2020 cannot overlook the global reactions to George Floyd’s death and the resulting protests that reach Joe’s doorstep. Yet, this is where Aster’s Western occasionally misses the mark. Comparing the outrage surrounding mask mandates to the earnest discourse on a tragic death feels misguided. The film’s approach to non-white characters, especially as violence ensues, increasingly appears exploitative rather than critical. While humor can indeed address serious issues, Aster’s “Isn’t it all absurd?” vibe takes a troubling turn when it treats racial themes with the same lightness as it does the critique of Hydroxychloroquine. This imbalance may be the source of division and contention among audiences.
This may very well be Aster’s goal. He’s reframing the mask discourse, conspiracy theories, and cultural reactions through a storied genre that often dealt with confrontations between men driven by their perceived righteousness in unprepared communities. This isn’t only a reflection of the polarization of 2020; it’s designed to provoke division as well, even in 2025. In that regard, whether you appreciate or detest it, the film undoubtedly achieves its purpose.
This review was written during the Cannes Film Festival. The film is set to debut on July 18th.
Cast
-
Joaquin Phoenix
as Sheriff Joe Cross -
Pedro Pascal
as Ted Garcia -
Emma Stone
as Louise Cross -
Austin Butler
as Vernon Jefferson -
Deirdre O’Connell
as Dawn -
Amélie Hoeferle
as Sarah
-
Director
- Ari Aster
-
Writer
- Ari Aster