Ari Aster Unmasks a Nation in Collapse
Coming off the surreal chaos of Beau Is Afraid, writer-director Ari Aster returns with Eddington, a deeply provocative, deliberately uncomfortable satire-thriller set in a fictional New Mexico town during the COVID-19 pandemic. Clocking in at 2 hours and 25 minutes, this slow-burning social pressure cooker finds Aster diving headfirst into the cultural war zone of 2020s America—and dragging the audience down with him.
Eddington isn’t horror in the traditional sense, but it is horrifying. Not because of ghosts or slashers, but because of how close it all hits home. It’s the Thanksgiving argument that never ends, the Facebook comment thread made flesh, and it’s all delivered with Aster’s signature dread and surrealism, though this time, whether it all works is a different story.
The Premise: Welcome to Hell, Population: Everyone
Set during the height of the pandemic, Eddington tells the story of a small-town sheriff (Joaquin Phoenix) in a standoff with the town’s progressive mayor (Pedro Pascal). The trigger? Masks. But that’s just the surface.
What begins as clunky pandemic satire explodes into full-blown American apocalypse: conspiracy theories, culture wars, political tribalism, social unrest, and an eventual descent into violence and madness. Neighbors turn on neighbors, the sheriff spirals into paranoia and vengeance, and allegiances collapse beneath waves of hypocrisy and delusion. Oh—and Antifa shows up in private jets.
Tone, Style, and First Impressions: Clunky, Claustrophobic, Then Unhinged
At first glance, Eddington appears to be a satire without jokes. The first hour is almost painfully literal—mask debates, “us vs. them” politics, race talk, TikTok teens, and boomer Facebook rants acted out loud. The dialogue can be cringy, characters feel caricatured, and the pacing is glacial.
But then it flips. About halfway in, Eddington mutates into something else entirely—an unhinged fever dream with shootouts, paranoia, surreal action, and cultish undertones. It’s as if Heat broke into a David Lynch movie being edited by a Twitter thread. And while that turn rescues the film from total collapse, it’s a bumpy ride to get there.
The Cast: Phoenix Carries It, Everyone Else Cracks
Joaquin Phoenix is the film’s unsteady heartbeat. As the sheriff, he’s equal parts pathetic, unstable, and disturbingly watchable. Pedro Pascal brings charisma as the more polished mayor, though he’s underused. The supporting cast ranges from forgettable to aggravating—some by design, others by weak writing.
Few characters are likable, and even fewer are memorable beyond their symbolic purpose. Everyone’s a stand-in for some extreme left, right, or otherwise. They aren’t people; they’re think pieces. The only breath of humanity comes from Phoenix himself, who somehow grounds the chaos even as his character slips further into it.
Uncomfortable on Purpose – And Maybe Too Soon
Ari Aster’s stated goal here is to reflect, not resolve. That might explain why Eddington offers no real answers, just wave after wave of conflict and contradiction. The film leans into discomfort like it’s a badge of honor, but for many viewers, that will make it feel more like a punishment.
Whether it’s scenes of mask debates, George Floyd references, Soros conspiracies, or deeply unpleasant family dinners, Eddington forces you to sit in the muck of recent American memory. And for some, that’s going to be a hard no. The satire isn’t sharp enough to land cleanly, and the surrealism may be too little, too late.
Should You See It? Depends on Your Tolerance for Pain
If you’re an Ari Aster diehard or an A24 completist, you’ll want to see what he’s trying to do here. It’s undeniably ambitious, often fascinating, and occasionally brilliant. But if you’re expecting Hereditary or Midsommar, prepare for disappointment. Eddington is more political theater than cinematic horror—and it’s a theater where everyone is shouting.
For general audiences? This isn’t essential viewing. It’s the kind of film better watched at home, where you can pause to scream into a pillow or scroll past the cringe.
Spoilers Ahead – When Things Get Unhinged
Let’s talk about the shift.
About an hour in, the sheriff murders the mayor and his son in cold blood. That one moment yanks Eddington out of dinner-table satire and into a full-on, twisted crime thriller. Suddenly, we’re in cover-up territory. Conspiracies turn literal. Antifa shows up armed in black, elite squads dropping into the desert like a Fox News fever dream.
From here, the movie becomes unpredictable, thrilling, and absurd. The sheriff transforms from a petty clown to an unstable anti-hero. Shootouts, betrayals, and surreal action sequences give the film a pulse it lacked early on. A late-stage twist turns the sheriff into a paralyzed mayor under the thumb of tech overlords. It’s bizarre, bleak, and maybe brilliant—depending on your read.
But the payoff comes at a cost: the ending tries to be everything. A mirror. A warning. A satire. A tragedy. It’s too much.
The Good
- Joaquin Phoenix is completely committed and magnetic, even as the film flails around him.
- The second half abandons the cringe and delves into absurd, yet effective, surrealism.
- Cinematography by Darius Khondji, capturing small-town decay and chaos with eerie precision.
- The guts to make something this divisive, this messy, this aggressively uncomfortable.
The Bad
- The first hour feels like homework. Dull, didactic, and aggressively unfun.
- One-note characters, each designed to shout a different culture war talking point.
- Tries to say everything, but ends up saying very little clearly.
- Lacking a genuine emotional anchor, it’s challenging to invest in anyone or anything.
Eddington: Eddington is the film equivalent of a shouting match at a pandemic-era family reunion—deeply unpleasant, occasionally riveting, and mostly exhausting. Ari Aster has vision, ambition, and the guts to push boundaries, but here, those qualities don’t come together. This is art with intention but without clarity. Satire with rage but no release. It's not unwatchable—but it’s definitely not for everyone. Call it Uncomfortable on Purpose, and maybe leave it there. – Asmodeus
