Who could have guessed that one of 2025’s most intense cinematic showdowns would unfold to the sound of Katy Perry’s 2010 anthem “Firework” – all set against the chaotic backdrop of the COVID pandemic? It’s a scene so wild, so emotionally charged, and so pivotal to the film that only the twisted brilliance of Ari Aster could have dreamed it up.
Few characters embody the feeling of being “a plastic bag, drifting through the wind” quite like Sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix) in Eddington, Aster’s latest American neo-nightmare. As the sheriff of a remote New Mexico town, Cross is caught in a whirlwind of conspiracy, paranoia, and unrest during the volatile days of May 2020. From COVID mandates to BLM protests, he’s pulled in every direction – struggling to hold his town together save his crumbling marriage, and match wits with his rival: the charismatic town mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal).
Eddington marks a clear departure from Ari Aster’s earlier horror-driven films (Hereditary, Midsommar, Beau Is Afraid), but rest assured— the dread, paranoia, and bursts of violence we’ve come to both admire and fear from the auteur are still very much present. Aster has evolved into a filmmaker who resists easy categorisation.
While he thrives in the dark and macabre, his work consistently grapples with deep human themes – grief, manipulation, familial trauma, that ground even his most surreal narratives. Whether explored with subtlety or stark intensity, these anxieties often give his films a haunting emotional core, something which is at the heart of his COVID-set Western.
Aster moves beyond traditional horror
Eddington feels like Ari Aster stepping away from traditional horror and leaning more into dark comedic satire, as he grapples with the fractured state of America’s political and cultural landscape. But don’t expect a moral lecture or a clear stance on who’s right or wrong, that’s not Aster’s aim. Instead, the film combs through the chaos of the COVID era, examining a wide spectrum of beliefs, fears, and responses from those caught in the middle of it, without feeling condescending or biased. The result is a tense melting pot of misunderstanding and manipulation.
No viewpoint or ideology escapes scrutiny in Eddington, as Aster exposes both right and left-leaning characters at their most absurd and extreme. The result is a series of cringeworthy exchanges and hilariously pretentious scenarios that walk a fine line between satire and sincerity. Few films have so accurately captured the surreal nature of the COVID era without feeling cheap or opportunistic. Eddington manages to critique and, at times, vindicate a wide range of political perspectives, without tipping too far in any one direction. In such a polarised time, that kind of balance feels unexpectedly refreshing.
A timely reflection on modern America
The cast is clearly game to wrestle with the film’s weighty themes, though not all are given equal room to shine. Emma Stone as Joe’s unhinged wife and Austin Butler’s turn as a pseudo-guru in the vein of Russell Brand both leave an impression but feel somewhat wasted given their talent. This is ultimately Joaquin Phoenix’s film. As Sheriff Joe Cross, he embodies a man unravelling. Sympathetic yet deluded, desperate to “free each other’s hearts,” while being slowly crushed by the world’s indifference. It’s a performance that’s both tragic and darkly funny, anchored by Phoenix’s uncanny ability to ‘walk the line’ between vulnerability and absurdity.
As with Aster’s past work, Eddington won’t be for everyone. It’s dense, difficult, and often refuses to provide clear answers, particularly for viewers looking for narrative closure or a clear-cut political stance. But beneath the layered chaos lies a sharp, if sometimes murky, satire of America’s recent past. From the quiet influence of ‘big tech’ to the psychological toll of social media, Aster hints at larger forces shaping our paranoia and disconnection, even if those threads don’t always come through clearly.
Eddington stands as a bold, timely reflection of a moment we’re still struggling to process. In forcing us to look directly at that discomfort, Aster reminds us that reckoning with our problems, however messy, is the first step toward understanding them.
