Writer-director Ari Aster tends to end his narratives in careening mayhem that finally exhausts itself in an absurdist state of entrapment. Midsommar, his best film, makes use of the conventions of the folk horror subgenre in order to achieve this end effectively. Hereditary, a big success that made Aster famous, was also protected by horror genre conventions, though after a promising start, I found it so silly as to be unendurable.
Eddington is like Hereditary (2018) and Beau Is Afraid (2023) in that it reflects his eagerness to make a full dive into the ludicrous, wrenching around the characters and plot events in ways that defy all narrative probability, apparently for the entertainment of that one guy in the sixth row of the theater whose hacking laugh indicates he finds it all incredibly funny.
It would be wonderful to get snapshots of the rest of the audience members during the protracted last sequences of these Aster films, as their faces begin to register faint puzzlement and then steadily squinch up in scornful disbelief until they reach a final state of complete disdain.
Among his avid fans, Aster gets credit for making hilarious “black comedy” that can’t even raise a bleak chuckle among nonfans. Eddington had a sickly debut weekend, though it’s not tanking as absolutely as Beau Is Afraid did. Still, one would-be wit among box-office trackers was inspired by the numbers to note that “Eddington is Deadington.”
And it’s too bad, because Aster’s got skills. His production designs are consistently a feast for the eye — the overall shooting and editing of his films demonstrates a great deal of control — his actors tend to be well-cast and give good performances. This is all true of Eddington, which in its early sequences is compelling enough to have made me think this time I’d finally really appreciate what people admire about Aster’s films.
Then he lost me again.
Eddington is a…
Auteur: Eileen Jones
