‘Eddington’ review: Joaquin Phoenix and Pedro Pascal face off in Ari Aster’s wan satire

Dir/scr: Ari Aster. US. 2025. 148mins

Ari Aster’s fourth feature seeks nothing less than to deliver a definitive snapshot of what America felt like during the height of the 2020 global pandemic. Eddington is a mad vision targeting the myriad ills still plaguing the nation — an addiction to guns, an unhealthy fixation on consipracy theories, a poisonous inability to distinguish between truth and fake news — but the writer/director turns those inspirations into a wan, hyperbolic narrative that offers little insights into the very real problems it identifies.

A wan, hyperbolic narrative 

Starring Joaquin Phoenix as the reactionary sheriff of a New Mexico small town who goes to war with Pedro Pascal’s progressive mayor, this strained satire is Aster’s first film to screen in Cannes Competition. The buzzy ensemble also includes Emma Stone and Austin Butler, and A24 plans on releasing the sure-to-be-divisive picture on July 18 in the US. But from a commercial perspective, Eddington finds Aster, the filmmaker behind Hereditary and Midsommar, moving away from traditional horror toward toothless social commentary.

The film takes place in late May 2020 when the fictional Eddington — population a little more than 2,400 — is policed by ornery, conservative sheriff Joe (Phoenix) When he rejects the state mandate requiring residents wear masks, it  puts him in conflict with Ted (Pascal), Eddington’s popular, kindly mayor, who insists that no one is above the law. Although he’s now married to troubled artist Louise (Stone), Joe has never been able to let go of the fact that she once dated Ted, and his anger over having to obey Covid-19 protocols inspires him to announce his own candidacy for mayor.

Eddington feels like an extension of the tonal daring of Aster’s 2023 psychological horror film Beau Is Afraid, which also featured Phoenix. As with that picture, the writer-director crafts a surreal, nightmarish world — except the one in Eddington is, essentially, a slightly elevated version of America as it tore itself apart during lockdown. Crucially, the film takes place shortly after Minneapolis police murdered George Floyd, which triggered 2020’s Black Lives Matter movement and serves as a backdrop to the growing tensions roiling Eddington. Backed by Bobby Krlic and Daniel Pemberton’s anxiety-inducing score, Eddington sports a foolish, potentially dangerous main character whose determination to become mayor goes hand in hand with his growing resentment at what he perceives as a changing America.

In certain moments, the film’s absurdism recalls that era’s paranoia and volcanic anger, but too often Aster overshoots the mark, collecting the period’s signature elements without finding much that is smart to say about them. Eddington glibly mocks the BLM protests with the same lack of specificity it uses to attack self-appointed religious leaders and superficial social-media memes. Aster’s intentionally unlikeable protagonist comes to represent all small-minded, right-leaning Americans, forcing the filmmaker’s presumably liberal audience to confront Joe’s deplorable worldview. But unlike the dazzlingly complicated Beau of Aster’s last film, Joe remains an underwhelming cipher. Phoenix imbues the character with a bullheaded integrity, but the performance isn’t especially comic or probing.

This deficiency becomes even more problematic once Joe’s election campaign kicks into high gear, leading to shocking violence. Eddington suggests that Joe’s political ambitions are nothing more than vindictive conservative outrage — not to mention Ted’s perceived threat to Joe’s manhood because he dated Louise. Unfortunately, Aster sees his characters only as cartoonish types — and this New Mexico community as a bastion of backwards thinking — so the escalating, sometimes deadly conflicts have precious little stakes.

Aster’s knack for bravura set pieces hasn’t abandoned him — the final reel features a gripping nocturnal shootout — but his desire to explain how Covid-19 crystalised all he sees that’s wrong with America leaves no room for humanity, discernment or wit. Stone’s mentally fragile wife barely registers, and Butler’s portrayal of a conceited spiritual guru rarely rises above cliche. Without question, the pandemic profoundly transformed an America that was already descending into tribal factions and widespread animosity. But Eddington lacks a clear perspective on that ever-present tragedy, settling instead for cynical observations and a fatal amount of smug self-satisfaction.