Disturbing the Peace
Film
In May of 2020, a standoff between a small-town sheriff and mayor sparks a powder keg as neighbor is pitted against neighbor in Eddington, New Mexico.
One person's nervous breakdown is another's unsavory inspiration for an off-color joke. Welcome back to the all-but-ordinary mind of Ari Aster, the emotionally well-adjusted filmmaker who insists he "has a great relationship with his mother" despite being the creative fiend behind family-friendly films like Hereditary and Midsommar. We chronicled both of those films two years ago in the lead-up to his last film, Beau Is Afraid, which is perhaps the crème de la crème of unhinged Oedipal fever-dreams of the 21st century. All things considered, Ari seems to be a laid-back, easygoing chap. He's someone who enjoys pondering the simple things in life – things like ritualistic violence and gruesome mutilation; the inherent and hypocritical spectacle of psychological horror; and how could I forget, the debilitating, trickle-down effects of deep-seeded, multi-generational family trauma. Like I said, just casual, low-key stuff and definitely nothing fraught or unsettling to speak of! This time around, Ari is back and peeping through the looking glass, to a time long ago in a galaxy far, far away... the time is May 2020 in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, and the place is a small, rural town in New Mexico.
His fourth feature film, Eddington, is something of an oxymoron by design, a contemporaneous period piece that feels like it happened yesterday... or is happening right now... or might even happen tomorrow. To its credit, the film is a slow burn that gradually turns up the burners, nimbly subverting any sort of clear-cut genre label, while skillfully keeping its larger intentions hidden for as long as possible. Eddington feels like some kind of deconstructed, post-modern neo-western, set in a land of division and derision. It also has the makings of a simmering paranoid political thriller, brimming and nearly boiling over with a bunch of half-baked crackpot theories about the dark and seedy underbelly of America. Don't worry, I'm nearly done over-intellectualizing over here because I'm running out of ideas and terms to throw around. But really, the best thing about Eddington is that it deploys Aster's best qualities and tendencies as an unapologetic filmmaker, applying his skills so assuredly to something that feels a bit more urgent and a bit more grounded than his typical fare. And by invoking the art of shrewd observational comedy with such scientific precision, the film often feels as much like a heightened documentary as it does some kind of scathing satire.
Starring Aster's new favorite loser cuck (I mean muse), Joaquin Phoenix plays the stumbling and bumbling Joe Cross, sheriff and soon-to-be mayoral candidate of Eddington. Whether it be as Napoleon Bonaparte, Arthur Fleck, or Beau Wasserman, this is a character archetype Phoenix has been playing a lot in recent memory. His performance brilliantly straddles the line between wet-blanket nincompoop and just-insecure-and-disenchanted-enough-to-be-dangerous. Opposite him is Pedro Pascal as Ted Garcia, Eddington's incumbent mayor who is running for re-election and testing the limits of his and Cross' professional collegiality. Pascal, who has shouldered the unbearable (and inescapable) weight of fantastic talent and expectations all summer at the box office, makes for a worthy foil to Phoenix – he does so with relative ease as he blends his charm with a heavy dose of smarm. Elsewhere, there's two-time Oscar-winning actress Emma Stone playing Cross' wife, Louise, who somehow managed to take time out of her prolific shooting schedule with Yorgos Lanthimos to show up in New Mexico for a few weeks. Her screen time, while limited, is effective. And lastly, there's one of Hollywood's premier it-guys, Austin Butler, who... well, I'm still not exactly sure why he's in this movie but that's neither here nor there. Before you get mad, I'm not saying he's bad, I just think his B-storyline is one of the film's few weaker links. Overall, most scenes are well-scripted and characters do not seem to overstay their welcome.
While there's no shortage of on-screen starpower, the behind the camera and below the line filmmaking talent meets, if not exceeds, Ari's usual top-shelf standards. Composer Bobby Krlic, is splitting duties with Daniel Pemberton (of Spider-Verse fame) to produce what is ultimately a high-low, ying-yang score that is ominous and atmospheric, but also semi-ironically traditional and, at times, uncomfortably stately. Aster's long-time cinematographer, Pawel Pogorzelski, is absent this time around and in comes Darius Khondji, savvy veteran DP who recently worked with Bong Joon-ho on Mickey 17, who shoots in both wide vistas and claustrophobic tracking shots to marvelous effect. And then there's editor Lucian Johnston, who has been around since Hereditary and is the thumping pulse of Aster's tension-building and suspense. Altogether, the filmmaking craft is, as expected, operating at an extremely high level, and provides Aster, and the performers, the liberty and opportunity to fully develop the characters, story, and themes.
Divisive by design, Eddington doesn't really take a stance or offer any kind of solution to the problems it presents. As it pertains to the screenplay, I think that's a feature, not a bug. In my opinion, accusations of centric fence-sitting and murky virtue-signaling are somewhat silly if not downright stupid. Who the hell went to see Eddington in the theater hoping Ari Aster was going to solve the world's problems?! If it is offering anything at all, it gives the audience the opportunity to laugh at the absurdity that is being honestly rendered in each frame – what it lacks in depth it certainly makes up for in sharp humor. Exploring and unpacking this film, like the rest of Aster's filmography, requires both heavy-lifting and a great deal of balletic discipline. After all, he's made his bones disrupting and disturbing his audience. Some viewers may find the inner workings and the sadism of his films exhilarating, while others might find them draining. You might say that Aster is a kind of black licorice filmmaker – depending on your preferred palette, his brand of warped humor and his off-putting disposition as a filmmaker may not exactly mellow your yellow. To each their own.
Since seeing the film, I still have a lot of unresolved thoughts and feelings. Maybe some of them would be resolved after a second viewing – but then again, maybe not. What I do think is that Eddington seems to have a lower opinion of its general audience than it does its characters, a loaded sentiment I imagine others may disagree with. The characters here are all immensely flawed, sure, but there is something so wickedly honest in their shading that makes them feel so unequivocally human. Almost as if real life is stranger than fiction. Kind of reminds me of characters from the Coen Brothers or Charlie Kaufman – either you're in on the joke, or you're the butt of the joke, eh? In a film full of people compounding their problems under the fraudulent façade of "helping others," Aster still manages to find humanity, humor, and dare I say it, heart, amidst the blood, smoke, and darkness. Even though Eddington gets its jollies from poking at hot-button issues you might encounter while mindlessly doom-scrolling, it doesn't pretend to offer any real call to action. So even if the commentary is shallow, maybe that is kind of the whole point? There's no nostalgia here, no happy ending to help you rest easier at night. The bravest realization that comes from this movie is that we're probably screwed, because we've been screwed for a long time. Aster knows this, and he knows his audience knows this, at least more so than the characters in Eddington do. The real problem isn't on screen, it's in the seats.
Froth
Demo Brewing Company is the new kid on the block in Chicago's Malt Row. When you're bumping shoulders with Dovetail, Begyle, and Hop Butcher for the World, you better bring your A-game. Luckily, Demo is for real. Their garage setup is is intimate but lived-in, their beers are punchy but highly drinkable, and the vibes are immaculate. During my most recent stop-in, I tried the Pillow Talk Juicy Pale Ale, which is fruity, oaty, and plush (their word-choice not mine). Oh, and just so I don't take any grief, it's obviously juicy. I didn't think I needed to say that here since it's literally called a Juicy Pale Ale, but here we are. Geez, everyone is so sensitive these days! That said, I don't have to hope for big things for Demo Brewing Company, because I know they are for real.
