Written by Dilan Fernando

Warning: The following review is of a film that is part of the 2025 Cannes Film Festival and may contain spoilers for Eddington. Reader discretion is advised.

A driving force in modern horror cinema, filmmaker Ari Aster’s latest film Eddington paints an uncanny caricature of life in a small New Mexico town during the COVID-19 pandemic. The ominous and paranoiac environment shows how many people during that time were descending into isolation and the effects it had on their world views, lives and morale. This film isn’t a cracked mirror reflection of what life in lockdown was like, no, the mirror is intact, it's the people who look at it that must realize whether or not they’re broken. Aster opens the film with a homeless dust-covered barefoot drifter muttering and babbling incoherently, each step producing a mushroom cloud of dust – resembling Dennis Hopper’s 'The Prophet' character from Hang ‘Em High (1968), walks into the town of Eddington. Both characters in each film foreshadow the calamity that stems from human nature’s (tunnel vision) approach to better itself rather than bettering the lives of those who inhabit its environment. No man is an island, yet that seems to be the philosophy each character in Eddington embodies, spinning it into their own selfish benefit.

Sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix) tries desperately to keep the world rotating and the lives of Eddington’s residents moving smoothly; setting aside his own hopes for himself and his wife Louise Cross (Emma Stone). Joe, getting older, hopes to start a family with Louise, though still recovering from a traumatic adolescent experience and with the rising frustration as the pandemic progresses, parenthood seems unlikely. The couple’s relationship is at such a strain they hardly even speak to each other, sleeping in the same bed more out of convenience than mutual affection. Louise’s cantankerous all-conspiracy theorizing mother Dawn (Deirdre O’Connell) also lives with them after the passing of her husband (the sheriff before Joe). Louise spends her time at home painting and making hollow-eyed dolls for sale online. Joe tries to support her profession which he considers more of a hobby by telling her how much better she’s getting at it and by reimbursing members of the town that buy her dolls out of pity. Joe, being the sheriff, oversees other deputies Guy (Luke Grimes) and another in-training Michael (Micheal Ward) who look to him for guidance in how to lead their own lives by setting an example for Eddington’s residents.

Joe’s days typically consist of putting out small fires like drunkards causing havoc, petty squabbles about adhering to mask mandates and enforcing social distancing protocols. The first hour of Eddington shows the tedium of pandemic life, its slow pace may be off putting to some but Aster meticulously builds the tension by adding more gunpowder before the powder keg is set aflame. Running a simple errand (buying groceries at the supermarket) Joe lets two pivotal things occur. One, Joe shows the citizens of Eddington his disdain for all the policies surrounding the pandemic implemented by the town’s figurehead mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal) who’s running for re-election. Two, Joe’s realization that the pre-pandemic way of life is how he prefers to live, begins feeding his delusion by believing he’s the mark of change for Eddington’s citizens.

Driving around in his pick-up covered in campaign slogans, banners and with loudspeaker hollering promises, Joe begins to rally voters. It’s with this scene that Aster establishes the satiric tone of the film, dissecting tough issues like minority anger, police brutality, induced social isolation and systemic oppression that makes the film reminiscent of Nashville (1975). The bandwagon that third-party presidential-candidate Hal Philip Walker drives around in that film has a distinct look. Aster’s satirisation is similar to that of Altman’s and Scorsese’s, they aren’t political filmmakers in a traditional sense because the politics are sewn into the characters.

Joe goes to the office and tells Guy and Micheal that they are his campaign team (as though they have a say) and goes home with glee. It’s here when Joe’s world and the town of Eddington mirror each other’s behaviour as the descent into madness is like falling down an elevator shaft. Louise, upset about her husband’s impulsive decision to venture into politics without consulting her, develops a stronger attraction to the leader of a televangelist group, Vernon Jefferson Peak (Austin Butler). Ted Garcia flaunts his calm collected aura and re-emphasizes his platform insinuating Joe has no chance for survival.

Finally, Ted’s son Eric (Matt Gomez Hidaka) squares off against his best friend Brian (Cameron Mann) for the affections of a political radical Sarah (Amélie Hoeferle). With his marriage in jeopardy, the electoral pressures building and a Black Lives Matter rally instigating a showdown with the town’s police force after the killing of George Floyd, Joe’s nearing his breaking point. One night responding to a radio call about the local bar being broken into, Joe sees who’s responsible, the homeless drifter. Drunk and disorderly, the homeless man yells, “You devils. You made this plague.” Joe’s reaction to this statement can be read one of two ways. Joe already knew this, or it’s his realization of it in the moment which sparks his violent declination.

Here’s where the second half of the film runs frantically towards its climax. Joaquin Phoenix’s casting is perfect for this role, as his ability to play a warm-spirited character like Doc Sportello in Inherent Vice (2014) and as the titular maniac in Joker (2019) seamlessly meld with each other. Aster proves that his talent isn’t primarily in writing as the visuals are a spectacle to behold, working with cinematographer Darius Khondji to create an apocalyptic suburbia. After Joe convinces Ted to step aside in the election, notice the sound of a spray can and the image that follows it, a wide shot of Joe driving across the landscape (a visual representation of a fuse being lit and burning down). Later on in the film when Joe is being hunted, he climbs onto a roof and falls through onto an exhibit commemorating Geronimo. Aster’s flair for black comedy is used to tremendous effect here, helping to undercut some of the dramatic and at times hyper-violent scenes.

During the film’s press conference at the Cannes Film Festival, Aster said of the film that, “The social force that is present in liberal mass democracies is gone now.” It’s on the people to find a solution to their problems, and take away from life what they interpret it to be. I was fortunate to ask Aster and the rest of the cast, “By the end of the film do you believe there’s any semblance of hope for the characters?” Looking amongst themselves, Joaquin Phoenix turned to Pedro Pascal to answer. Pascal reassured with an optimistic reply, “There’s always hope.” Aster’s response: “I-I’m, I’m looking desperately for uh, for hope. I said it earlier but I’ll say it again, we need to re-engage with each other, that's the only hope. I think.”

Dilan Fernando graduated with a degree in Communications from Brock University. ”Written sentiments are more poetic than spoken word. Film will always preserve more than digital could ever. Only after a great film experience can one begin to see all that life has to offer.“