Don't Look Up

Director: Adam McKay
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Rob Morgan, Cate Blanchett, Meryl Streep, Jonah Hill, Mark Rylance, Tyler Perry, Timothée Chalamet, Ron Perlman, Ariana Grande, Scott Mescudi, Himesh Patel, Melanie Lynskey, Michael Chiklis
Running Time: 138 min.  
Rating: R 

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The loudest conversations surrounding Adam McKay's sci-fi satire, Don't Look Up, might center on the likelihood of an event as cataclysmic as what's threatened in the film actually occurring. But that depends on what you consider the real tragedy. A comet potentially wiping out the planet or the hilariously awful ineptitude in which that information's handled by the supposedly smartest, most capable in our society, entrusted to make decisions for humanity's well-being. Could any of this happen? The quickest answer is that it just did, only not with a comet, and this is what gives McKay's film so much power, lifting it from social commentary into something far more scathing and relevant. But that's only half the story, as it takes aim some of the biggest, timeliest targets imaginable, rarely missing.

Having already directed the polarizing The Big Short and Vice, McKay's no stranger to walking a tightrope that sometimes frustrates as many viewers as it delights, but this is operating on a much higher plane. What's most surprising about is how he manages to repeatedly hit these impossible marks, bringing the laughs for almost two and a half hours straight. You sit there expecting it to completely run out of steam because it's just so broad and of the moment, but the truth just keeps funneling through, exposing self-interested government and society that have no idea how pathetically clueless they are. Not that they'd care anyway.  

Whatever divisive reactions exist to the the film itself, it's much harder to claim Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence or even Meryl Streep have ever tackled the kinds of parts they're given here. It feels like a real first, witnessing performers of their caliber strongly playing against preconceptions to juggle some really difficult material they likely jumped at the chance of challenging themselves with. Uncomfortably hilarious, it holds a harsh, revealing mirror up to a society many will recognize as pitifully identical to the one we've been living in for the past couple of years, if not far longer.

When Michigan State University astronomy doctoral candidate Kate Dibiasky (Lawrence) discovers a previously unseen comet hurling toward Earth, her mentor and professor, Dr. Randall Mindy (DiCaprio) comes to the frightening calculation that it'll hit in six months, resulting in an "extinction level event." Joined by NASA's Planetary Defense Coordination head, Dr. Dr. Teddy Oglethorpe (Rob Morgan), they're summoned to the White House to present this information to disinterested President Janie Orlean (Streep) and her obnoxious son and Chief of Staff, Jason (Jonah Hill). With midterm elections on the horizon and a scandal involving a Supreme Court Justice nominee breaking, Orlean selfishly advises them to just sit on it to avoid more bad press.

Shaken by the President's apathy, Kate and Randall leak the news to the media at Oglethorpe's urging,  soon discovering that the public may also not be as receptive to this information as they thought. But with Orlean's popularity dipping amidst further scandal, she realizes her team may be able to use this impending catastrophe and the scientists to her political advantage. With the help of billionaire tech CEO and key donor Peter Isherwell (Mark Rylance), Orlean's plan for handing the comet crisis is put into motion, dividing the nation and sowing unneeded doubt about its very real danger. It'll be up to Kate and Randall to convince the public what's really happening, but it might be too late, as the rapidly approaching comet remains on course to take out human civilization. 

From the very start, there's an anti-science sentiment Kate and Randall have to battle that quickly chips away at everything they knew about themselves and how the government, media and public view their work and competency. Or more accurately, people just don't like bad news and will come up with any excuse not to receive it. Undermined and humiliated from the moment of discovery, they're  now in over their heads, sucked into a machine intended to dismantle and destroy them for stating facts. While it appears one of them is more capable of handing this, even that doesn't end up being true, with the situation understandably rattling them both to their core in very different ways. 

The astronomers have unknowingly entered an arena where Earth's impending demise is laughed off and mocked by fluff morning TV hosts Brie Evantee and Jack Bremmer (Cate Blanchett and Tyler Perry), whose phony banter, goofy jokes and insistence on "keeping things light" result in some of the film's funniest, but most depressingly realistic moments. Blanchett and Perry are so good in these scenes, perfectly capturing the kind of annoying, celebrity and social media obsessed camera hogs flooding the air on every major "news" outlet. With hosts far more interested in music star Riley Bina's (Ariana Grande) recent breakup with DJ Chello (Scott Mescudi) than a comet wiping out Earth, the scientists start realizing the level of stupidity they're up against, which extends far beyond just the political spectrum.     

The journey DiCaprio takes Randall on is really something, as this seemingly nerdy, Xanax popping, numbers-obsessed scientist has to find his media sea legs after being thrust into the spotlight. A simple man enjoying a comfortable, if pleasantly mundane life back home with his devoted wife June (Melanie Lynskey) and grown kids, he's suddenly a huge celebrity pressured into telling everyone what they want to hear. And as those drawbacks and rewards push back against his principles, he'll have to make some tough moral choices. As a weakened Randall teeters on the verge of implosion, DiCaprio has what might be his best scene out of many, completely snapping as he channels Peter Finch's Howard Beale in Network with a breakdown that feels like the culmination of everything this guy and the country's been put through.

As Randall adjusts to becoming a media sensation, it's Kate taking the brunt of the backlash, framed as a fear-mongering psycho despite being more well-adjusted and sensible than most. Publicly demeaned by everyone from her journalist boyfriend (Himesh Patel) to the President herself, she's the character who earns the most amount of empathy, as even the naming of the "Dibiasky Comet" feels like an intentional slap in the face, putting an even bigger target of unjustifiable blame on her back. 

With an seemingly permanent look on her face conveying utter disbelief at this insanity, Lawrence's "comeback" performance after a three year break ranks as one of her most nuanced and fascinating, reminding us all what we've missed. Between the President's cruel categorization of her as a poster girl for "disaffected youth and mental illness" and her son's sarcastic cheap shots at Kate's looks and intelligence, Lawrence conveys her character's boiling impatience and frustration with often just a single, piercing glance that speaks volumes. Beaten down through much of the film, she never makes Kate a doormat, imbuing her with the strength and resourcefulness to curb this corrupt hypocrisy, regardless of the consequences.

McKay also incorporates all these smaller details into the script that make for a surreal viewing experience, like the fact this narcissistic, power-hungry President has her own incompetent son serving as Chief of Staff, adding nepotism and cronyism to the list of malfeasance. And if it's going to still be a long running complaint that Streep's nominated for anything, why isn't she even being discussed for this? It's one of the rare recent examples of her taking a huge unexpected leap with this blistering portrayal of a delusional Commander in Chief that may contain some Hillary Clinton mannerisms, but by the actress's own admission, is entirely based on Trump. What's most impressive is the nonchalant arrogance with which Streep plays Orlean, who never once considers the option that anyone will hesitate in doing exactly what she says while happily kissing her ass at the same time. And sadly, she's completely right.

Mark Rylance is weirdly brilliant as BASH cellular CEO Peter Isherwell, a nightmare hybrid of Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Steve Jobs, Richard Branson or any other eccentric, self-absorbed tech billionaire promising to better everyone's lives. There's an expected way to play someone like this, but McKay has Rylance throw that rule book out the window, instead giving him these delightfully strange quirks that add so much to the persona. From Isherwell's odd accent to the creepy calmness, he's either mumbling unintelligibly, leaving out words or staring into space while talking, often making no sense whatsoever. It would have been so easy and predictable to play him as this kind of evil overlord, but McKay's smarter than that, knowing it's the disingenuous benevolence that makes this character resonate. Rylance goes all in, providing his own bizarre take on how these very recognizable personality types behave. 

There have been complaints about film's length, but in this particular case it feels strangely warranted, and that's coming from someone who cringes at any comedy or drama going beyond the two-hour mark. As with any picture, you could probably find areas to trim and tighten, but there's nothing egregiously obvious here. If pressed, even the two weakest sub-plots involving Ariana Grande's pop star character and Kate's relationship with a skateboarding shoplifter named Yule (Timothée Chalamet) don't unnecessarily extend the proceedings. The former is given brief, proportional screen time while you could argue Lawrence and Chalamet's performances help land that latter storyline land in a much better, more meaningful place heading into the third act. As for supposed issues with tone, given the material needs to alternate wildly between laugh-out-loud satire and dramatic events that suddenly seem a lot less fictional now, McKay remains remarkably consistent.               

Just when you think this has run out of people and ideas to skewer or went as far over-the-top as possible, its ending moves the goalpost. But none of it would work if there wasn't something real there with characters who are invested with a depth that make them work as both parodies and people. Comparisons have inevitably been made to Dr. Strangelove, but a more accurate reference point might be the similarly misunderstood, even less easily digestible Southland Tales, in which an eclectic, all-star cast of actors are placed inside an ambitiously imagined universe on the brink of socio-political collapse. Don't Look Up allows us to laugh at all the absurdity, relieved that someone finally had the guts to just say it, and this entertainingly well. With an evergreen quality likely to hold up over repeated viewings, it's the ultimate time capsule, providing a crazy snapshot of a world where the truth's become convenient to dismiss, but even easier to ignore.