- Director: Alejandro González Iñárritu
- Screenplay: Alejandro González Iñárritu, Alexander Dinelaris Jr., Nicolás Giacobone, Sabina Berman
- Story: Sabina Berman, Alejandro González Iñárritu, Jez Butterworth
- Producer: Alejandro González Iñárritu, Mary Parent, Tom Cruise, Michael Sharp
- Cast: Tom Cruise, Riz Ahmed, John Goodman, Sandra Hüller, Michael Stuhlbarg, Jesse Plemons
- Cinematography: Emmanuel Lubezki
- Editing: Stephen Mirrione, Conor O’Neill
- Score: Cosmo Sheldrake
- Genre: Satirical black comedy
- Runtime: 129 minutes
In a mansion, extravagantly furnished, lives Digger Rockwell (Tom Cruise). He’s an oil tycoon, which explains the large accumulation of wealth. Wearing silk pyjamas, he answers a call from the safety officer at his company’s oil field in Greenland. Continuous extraction has released bubbles of methane, causing an explosion that results in a gargantuan ice shelf breaking off. The ice shelf, named ‘Judy’, is on a collision course with the Norwegian coast. Digger colludes with the United States President (John Goodman) and his cabal, attempting to manipulate the truth of the situation and dig their way out.
There’s two twists in the runtime: one a little into the proceedings, the other later on. Avoid any spoilers. Though you may be aware of the polarising response the film has received. I recognise why people didn’t warm to it but I dig Iñárritu’s experimental filmmaking technique.
This could’ve been yet another humourless disquisition on how humans have irreparably destroyed the environment but Iñárritu has chosen to swathe it in weirdness. Every character is an overblown caricature; oil baron Digger’s Southern accent, the president’s dementedness, his cronies’ unfiltered misogynistic and racist attitudes – all cranked up to eleven. The circumstances they’ve found themselves involved in play out in the most cartoonish way. That’s the whole point. Take the worst scenario, like a cataclysmic environmental disaster, and turn it into a form of entertainment. A story to be consumed by the masses. Nonetheless, the screenplay finds time to make a dig at us as a society dependent on fossil fuels but it’s to be expected. We’re digging our own grave.
Cruise chews the scenery. In a sea of disorder, he still manages to command attention with his strange charisma. The lighting makes everyone look pallid. John Goodman has lost so much weight he looks ill. The president is suffering from terminal rectal cancer so the gaunt appearance figures. Even so, his wan visage feeds into this feverish feeling. The midsection languishes – I’d understand if you’d given up on it halfway through. You may as well stick with it; you’ve dug down in order to watch it.
When the planet is on fire, when our governments try to deceive us, when our leaders are totally inept…then all we can do is laugh. Not that the movie had me rolling in the aisles or anything. It’s just so outlandish. If you’re still bemused, a bleak ending puts a stop to that and leaves you with a lingering bitter taste in the mouth.
The story’s over. The world isn’t. Yet.
My rating: 6 / 10
