Western culture has been engaged in many conversations about tolerance of those we disagree with and the way the internet can radicalise our ideas and behaviour. Eddington, the latest film by acclaimed writer–director Ari Aster (Hereditary, Midsommar) is painfully relevant to these conversations. Eddington is a fiercely serious, critical but empathic social satire of the ‘if you don’t laugh you’ll cry’ variety.
The film is a cultural Rorschach Test: infuriating people across the social and political spectrum. Some even complained that it’s too soon to make a film about COVID-19 and the tumult of the United States in the 2020. However, it is so rich that for those who can move past instinctive reactions, there is a great deal to explore and discuss. How do we understand Western culture in the 2020s? How do we participate in online and in-person communities with godly integrity? How do we stand for what is true and right in a way that remains wise and kind? How do avoid drifting off until unhealthy and ungodly extremes?
Eddington centres on Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix), sheriff of the eponymous fictional small town in New Mexico. Cross resolves to run for mayor against virtue-signalling incumbent Mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal) in response to the latter’s enforcement of COVID restrictions. Multiple stressors, including the emergence of a disruptive Black Lives Matter protest, and Cross’s wife Louise (Emma Stone) leaving him to join a cultish religious movement led by Vernon Jefferson Peak (Austin Butler), push Cross over the edge. From here, events snowball to a cartoonishly extreme and shockingly violent crescendo.
Neighbourliness and Screens
Lodge (Clifton Collins Jr.), a COVID-positive, mentally ill homeless man, enters Eddington at the beginning of the film, talking to himself incoherently. The wide angle shot evokes both the Western film setup of a mysterious stranger riding into town and the horror/thriller setup of infiltrating evil. Lodge contributes to the themes of the film on multiple levels. As will be discussed further below, he not only literally infects the town, he serves as a symbol of the mind viruses that infect the town through social media, leading to all sorts of irrational and antisocial behaviour.
Lodge is also a foil for the professed ideals of others. Both ‘conservative’ sheriff and ‘woke’ mayor handle Lodge in a forceful, dehumanising way at the beginning of the film. Later, Black Lives Matter protestors treat this sick man as a nuisance, even though a video of the sheriff’s treatment of him served as the catalyst for their local protest.
In a confrontation between Cross and police from another county, one of them shouts, “I am listening! Shut up!”—a painfully ironic encapsulation of the problem of communication breakdown. Shortly thereafter, Cross and Mayor Garcia have an argument about COVID safety protocols while on either side of shopfront window glass, that serves as a life-sized analogue to the phone and tablet screens that dominate the film, as people shout at one another across the internet, making bold declarations to their followers while ignoring those in their communities, even their own families.
We all know too well how online interactions can sabotage our conformity to the Golden Rule (Matt 22:38). “What are we doing to ourselves?” Eddington asks, just as Nathan Campbell does in a recent piece for The WADR Project:
What are we doing to ourselves? We have technology that connects us to the globe immediately and invites us to have and share quick opinions. Are we better for this, or do we risk adding fuel to an already destructive fire by piling on and making it clear where we divide from our neighbour rather than making space at our tables, in our homes, to listen to one another?
Ideology and Hypocrisy
Not only are the people of Eddington’s ideas and actions twisted by social media, they are also unveiled as being laughably, and often tragically, motivated and undermined by hypocrisy. The simplest comic material is found in the portrayal of the overblown posturing of the young adults adopting ‘woke’ talking points. For example this excerpt from a young man’s speech:
I’m just another privileged white kid and my job is to sit down and listen, which is what I plan to do after making this speech, which I have no right to make!
This vigil is happening on stolen ground!
It becomes clear, however, that this character is activated for the cause primarily to win the affection of a girl, who in turn still has her eye on her Black ex-boyfriend.
Much of the satire is far darker, however. Austin Butler’s creepily magnetic cultish online influencer Vernon Jefferson Peak feeds and then preys upon the psychological instability and emotional vulnerability of Louise Cross and her mother. Joe Cross’s own radicalisation is presented to us as impulsive, poorly conceived and increasingly a sublimated response to the problems in his family life. His behaviour becomes increasingly unhinged and then appallingly corrupt.
It is wrong to dismiss a cause because of the hypocrisy or mixed motives of its advocates. But it’s also vital that we are self-aware of how complex the causes for our beliefs and actions are. This is what satire does: it unveils our hypocrisy. Human finitude, our social nature and the pervasive effects of sin and the devil are at work on all of us. We know that sin darkens our minds and takes our hearts captive (Rom 1:18–32, Eph 4:17–19). These forces work in different ways on each individual and group—preying on the weaknesses and temptations of each. A humble recognition of this can help us examine them with discernment; perhaps even a sense of our own ridiculousness can take the edge off our unnecessarily extreme, black-and-white, self-righteous or paranoid stances.
Many negative reviews of Eddington focus on its treatment of the young protestors. The New Yorker’s Richard Brody calls it a “fundamentally manospherical movie”. These complaints are legitimate to varying degrees, but they are also the product of a form of criticism that focuses on analysing the politics of a film and its function in a wider cultural conversation, rather than on its own terms. In the case of Eddington, I actually think such critical reactions misunderstand the film because of their political expectations and sensitivities, as I will explain below.
‘Both Sides’ and Empathy
Eddington can be criticised for ‘bothsidesing’—giving equal credence to two sides in an uneven debate. A similar kind of accusation, dubbed ‘third wayism’ has been levelled against TGC co-founder Tim Keller and Keller Center fellow Chris Watkin. Yes, bothsidesing can give credibility to fringe views; cast doubt on what is in fact a very broad consensus in favour of one ‘side’ in a debate; and evade making a bold stand for what is true and good. Just as in the church there is a time for opposing false teaching and conducting church discipline (1 Tim 1:3–7, 1 Cor 5).
But most of the time, issues are complex; evil deeds have partial explanations, even if these are not excuses. There are many occasions where it is fruitful to consider both sides of a conflict. There are many cases where the simplistic choice of two ‘sides’ distorts the issues, and definitions and antitheses need to be deconstructed. Regardless, must every film pick a side on the issues it explores and prosecute its case systematically? Are fictional films primarily political texts—sophisticated agitprop? I don’t think so.
Writer-director Ari Aster grew up in New Mexico and he returned to the area to understand the experience and perspectives of those who live and work in this part of the country. Alongside his searing humour and warning of catastrophic slippery slopes, Aster shows generous empathy for his characters. Many critics take exception to this humanising of the ‘wrong side’. I think it is better to see it is another form of neighbourliness, seeking understanding and show grace towards those we consider wrong, even dangerously wrong.
A similar posture is needed by every Christian and especially the would-be evangelist. Our political, ethical and religious ‘enemies’ are also loved by God by virtue of creation and salvation (Matt 5:43–48, Jn 3:16). They are potentially future brothers and sisters in Christ (2 Cor 5:16–18). Our bold proclamation of the truth and rigorous apologetics arguing against falsehood need to be accompanied by generous empathy.
Despite this generosity, it remains the case that ‘right wing’ extremism is presented in Eddington as the more dangerous side (depending on how we understand the arrival of an external group at the film’s climax—another Rorschach Test!). Posturing progressives appear for the most part as merely silly. It is the radicalised sheriff whose behaviour is the most concerning. Except there is one other villain in the story.
Technology
Another villain is lurking in the background of Eddington. Tech company SolidGoldMagikarp is seeking to build a data centre in the county, with the support of Garcia. Their presence forces us to ponder how such enormously wealthy and powerful corporations may enflame division, paranoia, corruption and violence. The concerns of those who own and lead these corporations work wickedness all their own, distinct from the ideologies and politics that occupy so much of our attention.
In our discernment as believers, we too need to be alert not only to politics, media, academia and religion; technology and economics also have a huge influence on the beliefs and behaviour of our world and need to be critiqued as well. In the words of Revelation, the dragon’s beasts from the sea and the earth can be at work in all of these spheres—and this calls for not only patient endurance and faithfulness on the part of God’s people, but also wisdom (Rev 13).
Eddington masterfully reimagines the height of the COVID pandemic with a nightmarish intensity, exposing the breakdown of human relationships and the destructive influence of ideology and technology when they captivate flawed and fragile human communities. Not a film for those who avoid distressing themes or graphic cinematic portrayals of violence, but a fruitful focus of discussion and reflection for some.
