By Jason Osiason

Eddington is darkly hilarious and quietly devastating, Ari Aster’s latest cinematic meltdown disguised as a political satire. It takes place in Eddington, New Mexico, in May 2020, right when pandemic anxiety, protests, and conspiracy theories are colliding. Sheriff Joe Cross, played by Joaquin Phoenix, is an asthmatic loner who suddenly decides to run for mayor against Ted Garcia, played by Pedro Pascal. Chaos spirals from there.

It unfolds in strange little shifts, Joe’s refusal to wear a mask, conspiracy theories from his mother-in-law, accusations flying, escalating violence and then there’s that moment at Ted’s campaign party. Katy Perry’s “Firework” blares as Joe stomps in to shut it down, and Ted goes from calm to slapping him. You feel the world slipping through its disguise at that second.

Phoenix is mesmerizing as Joe’s unraveling. He makes paranoia feel like a drug addiction, twitching and panicked, dissolving before your eyes. Emma Stone is there too, frozen and distant as Louise, while the rest of the cast hustles through every twisted American archetype with a sharp, satirical edge.

It could have felt crowded, but somehow it never does. Every sharp beat lands, even when the story careens off the rails into western-style gunfights or media-fuelled conspiracies. It’s all so absurd and uncomfortably familiar. Aster holds up the mirror to the dumbest parts of the pandemic and the ugliest parts of ourselves, and it’s hard not to wince.

In the end, Eddington may not land with the roar it deserves right now, but I think it’s the kind of unsettling, audacious film that will stand the test of time. It is bleak, befuddling, feral, and unforgettable. [A-]