Imagine a world where no one can agree on the same truth. In today’s deeply polarised reality, it’s not that hard to envision. Eddington, which premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, leans into that unsettling premise, taking us to a fictional New Mexico town where social and political disputes spiral out of control.
★★★☆☆
It’s late May 2020. The residents of Eddington are grappling with the reality of the COVID-19 pandemic and adjusting to new regulations. Mask mandates spark fierce resistance—especially from sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix). His opposition stirs conflict not only with other residents but also with the town’s progressive mayor, Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal). Their animosity runs deeper than politics, rooted in a dark personal history involving Joe’s wife, Louise (Emma Stone). Joe’s ideological and personal frustrations blur and boil over, ultimately prompting him to run for mayor as county elections near.
Joe’s entry into the political arena marks the beginning of the end for his marriage—not that it was particularly successful to start with. Louise, whom Emma Stone described during the press conference as a “ghost,” is mysterious and broken in an enigmatic way. Stone brings incredible depth to the character, revealing inner sorrow with just a glance. She emotionally drifts further away from her husband with each passing moment, eventually leaving him for Vernon Jefferson Peak, a radical cult guru played by Austin Butler with just the right mix of seductive and sleazy charm.
Phoenix is entertaining as the film’s central figure, though his presence occasionally becomes too dominant. Given the number of plots and intriguing characters Aster has assembled, it sometimes feels like a missed opportunity that the supporting cast doesn’t receive more substantial screen time. By the time their storylines reach their climax, we realize we’ve never truly gotten to know them, having spent so much time preoccupied with Cross’s fever-dream trip. However, while both Louise and Vernon Jefferson Peak work as compelling side characters, Pascal’s Garcia feels frustratingly underdeveloped. Given how central he is to the story, this creates a narrative hole—especially in relation to his conflict with Joe and shared past with Louise. We never quite understand who he really is and what motives him.
Elections in Eddington place social media at their centre. Joe’s online rants go viral which instantly evokes parallels with recent elections across the globe. Meanwhile, the murder of George Floyd ignites Black Lives Matter protests nationwide. Through these moments, Aster delivers a commentary on the hypocrisies of modern activism—particularly how some white allies can’t help but center themselves in movements meant for others and tell people how they ought to feel.
What follows in the film is often difficult to trace. Themes pile up, and its sharp commentary often slips into narrative chaos. It ultimately builds to an entertaining, Tarantinoesque finale—by which point the audience has completely given up trying to predict what comes next. Aster’s direction doesn’t aim to take sides or offer straightforward conclusions. As he explained during a press conference:
“What the film is about, for me, is about what happens when people who are so isolated and are living in their own realities come into conflict with each other. When you start bumping up against each other, a new logic is created, and out of that, people start amplifying each other’s fears and paranoias—and it’s dangerous.”
Eddington holds up a mirror to a society teetering on the edge of paranoia, where all lines of understanding have been broken. With biting clarity, Aster crafts a psychological portrait that stretches from white saviour complex and pandemic-era paranoia to conspiracy theories and collapsing civic trust. That is to say, Aster’s lens pans wide—perhaps too wide. The film’s ambition occasionally outruns its coherence. It tries to say so much, you’re left wondering if it says anything at all.
And yet, the chaos feels intentional. Like doomscrolling a 2025 social media feed, Eddington overwhelms with clashing ideologies, existential dread, conspiracies, and personal breakdowns. To be politically aware in 2025 is to live in a spiral, and Aster leans fully into that spiral. The challenge is that with so many narrative threads, the story occasionally loses its own direction.
That said, Eddington is funny in a dark, biting way. It pokes at hypocrisy with precision and builds an eerie atmosphere—one worthy of a dystopian nightmare—thanks to Darius Khondji, who once again delivers with his signature visual flair. The film doesn’t set out to teach or demand hours of post-viewing analysis. That’s not the point. It wants to confront; to confront a society where facts are up for debate and fear is the dominant force in the political landscape.
The Verdict
Eddington’s divisive reception at Cannes only confirms both its boldness and its unconventional narrative style—not everyone will be on board. Some find it overlong and aimless; others hail it as Aster’s most daring work yet. And honestly, it’s both: too long, at times too messy, and yet still a successful capture of the spiraling absurdity of contemporary life.
Words by Luiza Świerzawska
Eddington will release in US cinemas on 18th July. A UK release date has not yet been confirmed.
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