Ari Aster returns with a dystopian Western farce about a world gone mad that you definitely remember.
The first and maybe only true jump scare in Ari Aster’s “Eddington” comes right at the start. A barefoot old man trudges down the center of a road running through an empty Western town. He’s ranting and incoherently raving as he climbs a craggy hill silhouetted against a twilight sky. He gazes, or maybe glares, out at the town below.
And then, the jolt, via text onscreen: LATE MAY, 2020.
Buckle up and hang on. Now we know why the streets are empty, and the man’s ravings take on some new dimension: Maybe he’s just regular unhinged, or maybe he’s been driven into lunacy by the last eight or so weeks of madness. Or maybe he’s the only sane one left. Who can tell? By late May 2020, even the most unflappable among us felt one raisin short of a fruitcake.
We were living with an invisible and potentially extinction-level threat, people were dying and the sirens were unrelenting. But we were also surrounded by screens from which blared real facts, half-facts, fact-shaped nonsense and full-on gobbledygook. It all felt more real than reality itself, which in turn felt like something we had once seen in a movie.
That feeling of unreal reality is what “Eddington” sets out to capture, and that is Aster’s specialty. He was introduced to us as a horror director with 2018’s “Hereditary” (family and demonic horror) and 2019’s “Midsommar” (relationship and folk horror), but in 2023 he swerved into obviously personal territory with “Beau Is Afraid” — basically therapy journals dumped out on a table and come to hilarious, psychotically anxious life.
I love all of these movies, clearly designed to be feel-bad flicks and also provide twisted catharsis. It is hard to have a medium-size reaction to an Aster joint, and perhaps never more than with “Eddington.” This one is a Western, centering on Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix), the beleaguered asthmatic sheriff of the titular New Mexico town. He lives with his depressed wife, Louise (Emma Stone), who makes weird little dolls and sells them on the internet, and her mother, Dawn (Deirdre O’Connell), who moved in with them when the pandemic started and has gotten really into YouTube conspiracy theorists. (“Coronavirus, they used that word in 2019!” she tells her daughter and son-in-law over breakfast, by way of convincing them that this is all some kind of … well, who knows.)
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Source: Movies - nytimes.com