‘Eddington’ – Review
Ari Aster has swapped his usual ritualized horror for full-blown societal dissection in Eddington, a black-comedy thriller that glues Western grit to modern media paranoia. Think dusty New Mexico, sheriff’s badges, mask wars, data centers, cults, conspiracy memes—and Joaquin Phoenix clutching his asthma inhaler like it’s a six-shooter.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, a standoff between a small-town sheriff and mayor sparks a powder keg as neighbour is pitted against neighbour in Eddington, New Mexico.
Aster takes audiences back to May 2020 in the fictional backwater of Eddington (pop. 2,634), Sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix), a wheezing, anti-mask sad sack, locks horns with Mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal), the slick technocrat pushing lockdowns and a massive AI data hub. Time and pressure leads their escalating feud into a full-on explosion of values and animosity that soon tips into full-blown political theater as Joe runs for mayor in a rage-filled campaign against the future of public health and tech. Emma Stone provides support as Louise, Joe’s fragile, shut-in wife gets caught in the crossfire of her husband’s political ferver, and is lured further into delusion by her conspiracy-obsessed mother (a standout) and slippery cult leader Vernon Jefferson Peak (Austin Butler) preaching viral mayhem.
Eddington has a lot going on it, and it’s a cinematic experience that is genuinely different and unexpected. Running at it’s slow burn nature never feels hinged, but when the chaos does kick off, it’s bloddy explove and you’re left in a very WTF state! Sharp, exhausting, chaotic and frequently maddening, Eddington is a savage satire of contemporary America, and it’s utterly wild and volatile that when it’s twists and turns do hit you’re left in mouth-a-gape awe.
Aster’s cast is top notch, and they pull off a bunch of characters who are generally so-messed up and unlikeable that you just can’t look away. Joaquin Phoenix is unhinged gold as Sheriff Joe Cross, who morphs from a grumpy protector to unrecognizable rage machine, grandfathered into hios role and completely out of his depth, his whispery psychosis and pseudo-leadership are mesmerising, and he takes he pushes his deranged performance to the max. Facing off against him is Pedro Pascal as slick and popular Mayor and local business owner Ted Garcia, who is fundamentally everything Cross isn’t, and he’s too keen on following money, rather than looking into the good of the community. It’s special to watch these two butt heads, and with Eddington’s unpredictability things get messy fast.
Two-time Academy Award winner Emma Stone lives up to her talent as the Louise, Cross’ disturbed, shut-in wife who is quickly losing it, and fast, and she’s only person you feel any kind of empathy for, especially in light of her husbands growing sense of mania. Then there’s Austin Butler who shows up like a warped pied piper cultist, dripping charisma and menace with every leaked livestream as the bug-eyed, enchanting Vernon Jefferson Peak.
Eddington doesn’t just reflect 2020; it detonates it, turns it upside down, dips it in venom, and hands you a gun and a meme to carry forward. It’s uncompromisingly bleak and hilariously savage, a cultural fever dream that kicks you while you’re laughing. Aster doesn’t offer healing—he offers a mirror cracked nearly beyond repair, and dares you to look anyway. This is film that is stunningly fresh, backed out with bizarre and confrontational surprises, and that is sure to cause derision. But to Aster that’s the entire point, as his fierce satire cuts close.
If you’re into films that feel like a punch to the gut wrapped in a grotesque joke, this is your desert showdown. But be warned: it’s not cathartic. It’s combustible. Eddington leaves wounds, and questions, burning long after the credits roll, and that makes it one of 2025’s most audacious cinema showings.
Image: Universal Pictures
