Eddington (United States, 2025)

I have seen Ari Aster's Eddington described in several places as a "provocation." To me, that's too erudite a term to apply to this middling, unfocused motion picture. Aster's cThe more he tries to amp up the "controversial" elements, the more he loses the story until things fully implode during the final 40 minutes on the road to an interminable epilogue.

Eddington begins with considerable promise as it takes us back five short years to the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. Aster's recreation of small town America (in this case, a fictional New Mexico locale) from this era is spot-on. The film effectively captures the paranoia, fear, and uncertainty whose infection was as dangerous in its own way as the actual pathogen. A masking mandate ordered by Mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal) becomes the flashpoint, especially when the town's chief lawmaker, Sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix), refuses to follow it and studiously avoids enforcement.

Fault lines that began around masking radiate outward as unlikely conspiracy theories emerge, repercussion from the George Floyd incident provoke varying reactions, and demonstrations lose their peaceful sheen. Aster gleefully satirizes pretty much every position across the political spectrum but I found his approach to be surprisingly toothless, provoking more boredom than outrage. The story is crammed with red herrings and dead-end subplots. The most notable of these is the undercooked and unsatisfying relationship between Joe and his wife, Louise (Emma Stone), which seems to have been included primarily to increase the already bloated running time.

There's a point midway through the film when Eddington seems to be invoking Taxi Driver as an inspiration. Indeed, Joe's personality disintegration bears more than a passing resemblance to that of Robert DeNiro's iconic Travis Bickle. But Aster is no Scorsese and the ADHD screenplay can't stay focused long enough for this to work. Not long after channeling DeNiro, Joaquin Phoenix switches gears to Sylvester Stallone. I suppose one could argue that seeing Phoenix go full Rambo is almost worth the price of admission but, by then, Eddington's tenuous grasp on narrative coherence has slipped away.

The movie features a few nice performances, the most notable of which come from Joaquin Phoenix, whose internal struggles of conscience are effectively externalized by the actor, and Pedro Pascal, whose seemingly paternal temperament hides a less generous disposition. Emma Stone and Austin Butler make appearances but I can't say that either leaves much of an impression. Stone's Louise is semi-catatonic for half of her screen time and Butler's Vernon is Joe's boogeyman.

Back in 2019, when I reviewed Midsommar, I made the following observation about that film and Aster's earlier effort, Hereditary: "…the ending [is] jarringly out-of-synch with the build-up." Such a comment is equally applicable here. When Eddington is in set-up mode, it is capable of drawing in the viewer but Aster's tendencies toward shock tactics and explosive violence make it feel like he switched movies midway through.

Does Aster have a point? Indubitably. Many of them, in fact. One of his most frequent targets – and he's by no means a pioneer in this regard – is connecting mobile device obsession with a lack of humanity. Cell phones are everywhere in Eddington, more often than not spreading conspiracy theories. Some of these are actually pretty amusing, such as one in which a podcast (or radio talk show) host attempts to reveal truths surrounding the number "56." Aster also plays a lot with government corruption and is fairly evenhanded in his scathing portrayal of right-wing and left-wing causes. The movie is apolitical to the extent that it tries very hard to offend everyone. Unfortunately, for all its button-pushing, the movie's biggest offense is that it is often tedious and meandering and it takes at least 30 minutes too long to cross the finish line.

Eddington (United States, 2025)