White Noise

Director: Noah Baumbach
Starring: Adam Driver, Greta Gerwig, Don Cheadle, Raffey Cassidy, Sam Nivola, May Nivola, Jodie Turner-Smith, André Benjamin, Sam Gold, Lars Eidinger, Barbara Sukowa, Francis Jue, Gideon Glick, Chloe Fineman, Kenneth Lonergan
Running Time: 136 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers For 'White Noise'**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When certain novels are deemed "unadaptable" it's often due to the widespread fear it'll inevitably fail for not being the book. In other words, any filmmaker who knows what's good for them should just stay away. That feeling has long circled Don DeLillo's postmodern classic, White Noise. For decades, no filmmaker has dared to take on this existential apocalyptic satire set in a small college town in the mid 80's shaken by an air contamination disaster, and it's easy to see why. But now Noah Baumbach gives it a shot, resulting in what's easily the most ambitious, polarizing entry in his filmography, which isn't a surprise considering the monster he's attempting to wrangle.

Since the story's core crisis serves as the ultimate metaphor for pandemic times, you'd assume that's what finally brought this to the screen after thirty years of false starts. Of course, that the crisis taking place here lacks the same worldwide reach and impact is almost beside the point. In capturing the novel's essence and sense of impending doom, Baumbach is less interested in exploring the event itself than the true ramifications for those directly affected by it. You can feel that tension building before it occurs, often in darkly humorous ways that were prescient when the book was published, but seem even more alarmingly on target now. 

Tackling and spoofing consumerism, misinformation, higher education, religion and healthcare, it's both humorously touching and deadly serious. Much of it rests on Adam Driver's lead performance, which defies description and surpasses anything he's previously done on screen. It's also the best looking film Baumbach's directed, with cinematography and production values uncommon for Netflix's features, most of which tend to all look and sound the same. And after immersing viewers in its eccentric world for the entirety of its running length, it closes with a brilliantly out-of-left field musical number that reaches unmatched creative heights in its final thrilling minutes.

It's 1984 and Jack Gladney (Driver) is a professor of "Hitler Studies" at the College-on-the-Hill in Ohio. Together with his fourth wife, Babette (Greta Gerwig), they share four children; Heinrich (Sam Nivola), Steffie (May Nivola), and Denise (Raffey Cassidy) and their youngest, Wilder (Henry and Dean Moore). As Jack secretly taking German lessons to prepare for an upcoming conference, he's approached by a concerned Denise about Babette's increasingly bizarre behavior and memory issues. The discovery of her mom's mysterious pill bottle for an unlisted drug called Dylar only causes additional worry. 

When a nearby train accident spreads a giant cloud of chemical waste over town, causing an "Airborne Toxic Event," Jack scrambles to keep his family safe during a mass evacuation. As he and Babette are now forced to confront their mutual fear of death head-on, the disaster leaves a lingering impact on her already deteriorating mental and emotional state. Suddenly faced with the prospect of his own worsening health, Jack's becomes determined to get to the bottom of his wife's drug dependency, regardless of the dark road it takes them down. 

An opening scene where Jack's colleague, Professor Murray Siskind (Don Cheadle) gives a lecture on cinematic car crashes (complete with a highlight reel of famous film collisions) sets the tone early. He's clearly enamored by all the work and innovation that went into staging these, optimistically seeing beauty in destruction. Conversely, Jack's more entranced watching neighborhood cars orderly line the streets at the start of the college semester, babbling on about it to Babette. It's predictable comfort for him before their lives are upended, interrupting the daily routine he's established to distract himself from the inevitable. And yet for a man so terrified of dying, he sure goes out of his way to surround himself with it, even while clarifying he's not interested in talking about the one thing he's constantly talking about. It's not a coincidence he describes Hitler as "larger than death," giving us a major inkling as to why he felt compelled to create this field of study in which he's the leading expert. 

Before the incident occurs, death's specter hovers over everyone despite the routines they engage in to tune out those fears. The local A&P supermarket is established as the town's communal safety net, a brightly colored temple where they can preserve a seemingly idyllic existence, free from contemplating their own mortality. But a distraction is all it is, or a rather a postponement, until the illusion of their ordinarily comfortable lives is turned upside down by the toxic spill. Initially, Jack brushes off the danger, mostly because it represents his worst nightmare and what he's jumped through hoops to avoid acknowledging. The fear is most evident in Jack and Babette's weirdly unsettling conversation about which of them should die first

The Gladneys fleeing the hovering cloud of toxins while attempting to avoid exposure eventually leads to a car chase and quarantine, luring us into thinking this will be a sci-fi thriller. But it's just a red herring, as they soon discover no one really knows what's happening or will, the truth buried under mountains of medical misinformation and bureaucratic incompetence. The immanent danger ends as quickly as it began, leaving in its aftermath a couple who must now learn to somehow function again after staring death in the face. 

Jack's own potential exposure becomes a ticking time bomb that psychologically cripples him, as does his obsession in uncovering the source of Babette's Dylar. Once he knows, things gets even worse, as they're set on a surrealistic path involving this shadowy organization and a wacky, off-the-wall drug supplier named "Mr. Gray" (Lars Eidinger), culminating in a bizarre but strangely life-affirming visit with German atheist nuns. Besides Baumbach's ability to seamlessly switch tones at the film's midway point, it's really Driver's enigmatic performance that helps make all of this so compelling to watch. 

Nearly unrecognizable with a middle-aged paunch and disheveled appearance, Driver conveys a myriad of dimensions to a secretly troubled man whose entire life revolves around his denial of reality. How Driver emphasizes certain words, uses hand gestures or even moves around a room is fascinating, as he takes full command of every scene with a strange, unhinged charisma. He's also perfected a droll, dry line delivery that functions as the ideal vessel for the darkly satiric worldview the source material requires.

Driver's best moment comes opposite Cheadle's Murray, who's attempting to replicate the niche success of Jack's Hitler course, but with Elvis as his subject. As the two professors circle each other, trading historical commonalities about their famous figures' childhoods, the camera swoops around the lecture room following them, creating this uncomfortable atmospheric tension we can read on the transfixed faces of their audience. When Jack completely takes over like a mad preacher, Baumbach cuts between these prophetic rantings and the train disaster, resulting in what's easily the most impressive directorial work of his career. At least until the film's euphoric ending.

As Babette, Greta Gerwig comfortably slides right back into a big co-starring role on the heels of her successful directorial run. Sporting a fantastically frizzy mane of 80's hair noteworthy enough for even the characters to discuss, she brings a benevolent quirkiness to this optimistic free spirit slowly crippling under the weight of festering depression and anxiety. There's an offbeat sincerity to Gerwig that definitely suits Babette, who's racked with guilt, straining to maintain a happy facade as she sinks deeper into her own hole.

In addition to Cheadle's fairly prominent and effective supporting turn as Murray, Jodie Turner-Smith plays reserved brainiac Winnie Richards, the college's neurochemist who helps Jack in his quest to uncover the origins of Dylar. André Benjamin also has a small role as Elliot Lasher, another colleague at the school. Neither are given much, at least until you arrive at the spectacular musical finale, which you'd have a tough time envisioning without them prominently featured. In a monster adaptation like this, there almost isn't room for sub-plots so everyone surrounding the Gladneys are primarily present to reflect the mindset of the town before and after this catastrophe hits. And given the story's enormous scope, that's understandable. 

Whatever Netflix spent on this was worth every penny, as production designer Jess Gonchor and cinematographer Lol Crawley not only replicate the look, tone, and feel of the period, but movies made during it, to the point you'd think this was actually shot in the mid 80's. Danny Elfman's synthesized throwback score fits right in, only enhancing that aesthetic. Even the smallest set and costume details  astound, but it's the transfixing A&P supermarket dance scene (choreographed by David Neumann) set to LCD Soundsystem's "New Body Rhumba" that gives the film its triumphant send-off, with customers dancing in unison down brightly colored aisles adorned with pyramids of meticulously organized retro labels and boxes. 

For the Gladneys, this shopping trip allows them to bask in the mundanity of everyday life that Babette previously said she wished could last forever. We know it can't and won't, but the irony that they're still out there buying stuff to numb the pain and lose themselves isn't lost. It begins where it ends. Same as it ever was. And Baumbach keeps our eyes glued to the supermarket sequence all the way through, utilizing a visual style and aesthetic that recalls Wes Anderson, but with more narrative and thematic purpose. 

To say White Noise isn't for everyone is an understatement, and that's the thing with bringing challenging literary material like this to the screen. No matter how much critics and audiences initially revile it, the results are rarely forgettable. A robust 136 minutes probably isn't even be enough to delve into all the novel's ideas, but Baumbach still cracks its seemingly impenetrable layers to deliver a thought provoking meditation on the human condition. It's everything an adaptation should be, lingering in your mind long after the final credits roll, perpetually ready for another go-around. 

The Best (and Worst) Movie Posters of 2022

If a single word springs to mind when considering the most memorable movie posters, it's probably "iconic." It may not apply to every one, but chances are if you're able to instantly conjure up a single, striking image in your mind whenever that film's title is mentioned, it applies. Think Jaws, E.T., A Clockwork Orange, The Shining or Vertigo. All top-tier cinematic achievements matched by one-sheets that transcend a poster's purpose, resulting in a beautiful union of marketing and art. 

Those are extreme examples, occupying space in the pop culture lexicon alongside the film itself and emerging as an easily identifiable logo. Occasionally it becomes such a calling card that you could conceivably remove the title treatment (often also memorable) and still identify the film. So even if the theatrical experience has undergone drastic changes over the past few years, movie posters always seems to adapt along with it, their initial intent remaining the same. This idea of iconography isn't gone, just rarer. 

None of 2022's best designs can touch those classics, but that doesn't mean the principles and concepts behind them aren't still in play. Unlike 2021, where I scrounged to fill ten spots, this was a much better year, proving again there's usually a strong correlation between a film's quality and its poster. It's always a toss-up whether the top pick will present itself early and obviously with little competition, or be an unexpected winner that emerges from a crowded field of contenders. This time it's the latter, which I actually prefer, since it speaks to the quantity of exceptional designs over the past 12 months.

Just a reminder that only official, studio approved theatrical and screening posters released during the calendar year 2022 (possibly including upcoming 2023 films) are eligible. Most images via Impawards.com Below are the top ten, along with an alphabetically ranked runners-up list, and of course, the highly anticipated, but always entertaining year's worst. 

The Best...

10. Everything, Everywhere All At Once 

Capturing the polarizing chaos that is Everything, Everywhere All At Once would seem to be an impossible task, but illustrator James Jean nails it, melding all its wackiness onto a kaleidoscopic one-sheet that tells us everything and then some. From the googly eyes, to the hot dog fingers all the way to the two Evelyns framing the top and bottom, there's this strange thematic organization to the insanity that'll likely remind the movie's most ardent defenders why they love it (and prolong the agony of its detractors). Lots of little details here, all converging in Jobu's "everything bagel" black hole. A24 also released a series of parody posters based on the film's many multiverses, but it's this that easily stands as the most inventive and visually appealing of them all.

9. Fall

In the case of the vertigo-inducing, high altitude location thriller Fall, this is exactly how the movie looks, feels and is shot. No false advertising here, as you'll know with one look whether you're up for it. Just glancing at it may make some acrophobiacs nauseous, but there's a brilliant simplicity to Richard Rho's approach that only grows in impressiveness the longer you stare. The awesome use of all that wide open negative space and the breaking ladder captures the film at the apex of it suspense. You also have to love how the blinding sun against the blue skyline is sandwiched in between the top of the tower, nearly kissing its tag line. The functional sans serif title treatment is a perfect choice, with a navy typeface that's bold, impactful and well placed. "Dropping Soon." Clever.  Amidst a myriad of throwback designs, this poster's almost jarringly modern, which was a gutsy choice  Sometimes a teaser doesn't even need to knock your socks off, just convey the film as cleanly and efficiently as possible. Bonus points for playing with perspective and height in an inspired way I can't remember seeing since this.   

 

8. Spin Me Round

If GrandSon's design for Jeff Baena's romantic comedy Spin Me Round looks slightly familiar that's because it is, strikingly resembling the Criterion Collection cover art for John Waters' Polyester. While there are noticeable differences, the romance novel paperback theme is front-and-center and maybe creatively executed a little better here, going even further with that aesthetic. Drumming up curiosity as to what the film could have up its sleeve, it's busy, but you have to appreciate how the typeface is configured and repurposed to look much more like a trashy airport read than a movie poster. The label on the top left and even that crease going down the "spine" is proof of that attention to detail. With vibrant colors and top notch illustrations (just look at Alison Brie) are topped off by the couple perfectly posed behind that cheesy-looking title treatment. 

7. Butterfly in the Sky

Featuring interviews with host LeVar Burton and the legendary PBS show's creators, to say the 2022 "Reading Rainbow" documentary, Butterfly in the Sky slipped under the radar would be an understatement. But just look at this poster, which is everything the program represented in a single, eye-catching illustration that not only conjures up nostalgic memories of its opening credits, but the iconic theme song itself. It would have been so easy to just photoshop Burton onto the poster, add a title and call it a day. But this avoids replicating the errors of the disappointingly bland 2018 one-sheet for that masterful Mr. Rogers documentary, Won't You Be My Neighbor? You can't look at these images (especially the pages flying out of the TV) and not immediately reflect on everything the show meant to those who grew up on it. And it looks fantastic to boot, with dazzling illustrations and colors, a flawlessly placed brown title and the Tribeca laurel reef, all accompanied by a nice, clean border. Still trying to uncover who designed this.

 

6. Get Away If You Can

Here's another film that really fell through the cracks. Released back in August on VOD, actors and writer/directors Terrence Marin and Dominique Braun's sailing thriller, Get Away If You Can came and went with little fanfare, but Aleksander Walijewski's poster for it is unforgettable. With a plot revolving around the exploration of a deserted island, the studio at least knew to place the great Ed Harris at the forefront of what can best be described as a highly unusual, but visually captivating one-sheet that isn't overwhelmed by an onslaught of type and credits. The beige border and aqua blue color combo makes for a great contrast, with the two divers descending toward the title below and away from Harris' face on the bottom of the boat. As far as why Harris' face is on the bottom of the boat? Who knows, but it's a great choice. The design takes a page from Jaws, but in reverse. 

 

5. Armageddon Time

Sending out some classic The Last Picture Show vibes, this elegantly simple throwback for James Gray's autobiographical Armageddon Time demonstrates an understated excellence that's gone missing in modern posters, Successfully channeling the film's New York setting circa 1980, this GrandSon design also manages to replicate the style of poster that would accompany the film's release during that era. It's very deliberately intended to convey the theme and tone of the picture rather than misrepresent or oversell the picture as anything other than an adult prestige drama. And by taking this route, it ends up serving as the best, most honest advertising for this release. Those who want to see it will and that's the audience most likely to appreciate the artistry behind this one-sheet. The brown title treatment against the beige is immaculate and what even needs to be said about that spectacular skyline sketch? Part of me wonders how good this would look if you kept the tag line on top, but removed the vertical cast credits down the middle, freeing up even more negative space. Then again, it does help to know who's in it. Just great work all around.     

 

4. White Noise

The first official poster for Noah Baumbach's White Noise was surprisingly underwhelming. Then a few character one-sheets followed that weren't much better and we're left wondering...that's it? Yes, it's Netflix, but Don DeLillo's 1985 supposedly unfilmable novel on which this is based should be insane enough on its own to inspire some really wacky designs. And now here it is, as illustrator Marija Tiurina summons her inner Where's Waldo? to give us this gloriously detailed collage of chaos that's bursting through every corner of the page with moments and characters from the film. As fun as it's been seeing Waldo photoshopped into this online, there's actually enough going on that we don't even need him and you could just try spotting Don Cheadle instead. Posters and even t-shirts like this enjoyed spurts of popularity during the 80's and 90's, but this approach is still kind of a deep cut, albeit an entirely welcome one. You just don't see this kind of thing anymore and Tiurina does it about as skillfully as you'll ever see, crafting a worthy homage that reflects the movie's zaniness. 

3. Pearl

While the influence behind MOCEAN's "X-traordinary" design for Ti West's Pearl is clearly Italian horror movie posters of the 70's and 80's, it possesses that rare, attention-getting quality prevalent in those aforementioned classic one-sheets. There is an iconic quality to it, evident by the fact that you really could take away that bloody title treatment (which is outstanding) and credits and still completely know what this is. A lot of that can be attributed Mia Goth, whose performance and look in the film is so immediately recognizable that you could have gone in numerous directions designing the poster, just as long as she's prominently featured. The optimistically wide-eyed "who, me?" look is almost too perfect, complete with the bloody hands covering her cheeks. The black background makes the bright red pop and there's some good manipulation of perspective with a sepia toned Pearl chopping up her victim as the blood flows down the road into that beige background, forming the title. This retro aesthetic is nothing new, but it's still in a class all its own, serving as the ultimate companion piece for West's film. 

 

 2. Resurrection

P+A's design for the twisty Rebecca Hall thriller Resurrection could on the surface just be described as a grainy, black and white image of her character. But there's a lot more going on, to the point that we really have to question what we're looking at here. Especially the incorporation of those imprisoning orange vertical lines, taking an ordinary head shot into a creepy realm that befits the film's subject. The stark contrast between the black and white and those strong, bold orange bars is what jumps out most here. Pressed up and piercing through it is her eye, resulting in a genuinely unsettling sideways glance that lets us know something's askew. With thick, functionally placed off white title type and a superb border of the same color, notice how those bars feed right into those bold black pull quotes at the bottom and the credits. While undeniably a throwback, it's tough coming up with many past examples it draws from, suggesting maybe this concept is more original than it's gotten credit for. Hall is no stranger to appearing on memorable posters for her films, and here's yet another one, wildly unique enough to lure you into giving it a watch.

1. Tár (All Versions)

 

If anyone would appreciate the symmetrical composition of these posters, it's the embattled fictional conductor Lydia Tar of Todd Field's Tár. Emerging from the darkness and towering above us all, AV Print's ingenious concept for one of 2022's most acclaimed films lets us know under no uncertain terms that this is Lydia's space and anyone else will be shrunk and overwhelmed by her greatness, much like the characters she's stepped over on her path to dominance. Arms outstretched, it's as if a whole page couldn't even contain the character's wingspan, physicality, ambition and talent. Another great example of cleverly manipulating space and perspective, first two posters still manage to maintain that austere, inaccessible quality that makes the film itself such a challenging mystery box enigma. 

The huge transparent title and credits across Blanchett's torso compliments the image well, but for comparison's sake, look at that second version, which removes everything but the title. A noticeable improvement, only reinforcing the idea that text is often the biggest obstacle to work around. So despite far preferring the simpler version, they did a great job using text in a manner that really fits the overall design's form and function. But better still is Desi Moore's official Cinemark poster (also doubling as the 4K/UHD blu ray cover art), which captures the emotionally detached maestro in all her repetitive obsessiveness with that hypnotizing illustration. All these posters loom as large as the title character herself, which is quite a feat.  

Runners-Up...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ...And The Worst

Both these films boast impressive casts. So impressive that they should be prominently listed. See, they're big stars. You can read their names here. In text. There are many of them. 

While the idea of Jon Hamm playing Fletch definitely has potential, you'd never know it looking at whatever this is supposed to be. The familiar paperback concept (executed to far greater effect above with Spin Me Round) strangely resembles a Xerox copy of a rejected art assignment. Besides Hamm not looking quite like himself at all, everything just seems off, not to mention surprisingly unpleasant to look at.  

Despite being photoshopped beyond all recognition, it's hard to not to be mildly impressed that Tomlin, Fonda, Moreno and Field will all be sharing the screen together for the first time (bonus points for matching the correct names to the actresses). And yet it's still cringeworthy, managing to meet all the middle of the road expectations you'd expect from a comedy depicting four senior friends' trip to Super Bowl LI to watch their hero. Tom Brady doesn't need to be on the poster, but you wonder how much goofier this could have been if he was.  

  

Coming soon to your local public library...Steven Spielberg's The Fabelmans. That Toronto Film Festival poster really does look like something you'd see on the bulletin board next to a missing pet flyer or babysitting inquiry in the lobby while returning your overdue book. But even that can be forgiven, until you realize the borderless theatrical version is identical, yet somehow drabber. And all these sentimental images do little beyond reinforce everyone's biggest Spielberg misgivings going in. Supposedly, the film's much better than this, but young Sammy Fabelman walking toward projected images of his life on a studio backlot only heighten any concerns of syrupy content. At least they were smart enough to put Michelle Williams front and center, but that's about it. Maks Bereski's unofficial poster shows how this could have been done well.

Poor Andy Garcia, who looks legitimately perplexed at either how he ended up in HBO Max's Father of the Bride remake or got digitally manipulated onto its poster. Maybe both. Can't say I blame him. As far as no one knowing the film exists, generic advertising like this helps explain why.

Even by Netflix standards, this is pretty uninspired. And very, very blue. And that they simply repeated the same formula for the individual character and ensemble cast versions makes it clear what the game plan was all along. Just throw stars on the posters. They'll watch anyway. It doesn't matter.

To Jeff Goldblum's credit, he has his trademark bemused look suggesting he'd rather be anywhere than on a character poster for Jurassic World: Dominion. And it's hard to disagree. But I feel worse for that unidentifiable actress below who's baring only a vague resemblance to someone who looks like Laura Dern.  

Just a guess that this is supposed to be one of those body swap comedies, but Diane Keaton actually looks de-aged here (defeating the conceit of a younger person trapped in a senior citizen) and the others just look superimposed into a background containing the tidiest, most carefully placed pool party mess you've ever seen.

Tom Hanks is a lot of things, but "Grumpiest Man in America" doesn't exactly feel like the most accurate descriptor. But putting that, his menacing scowl and a fake cat aside, this does seem to represent a trend for the actor of late. They've basically just stopped designing posters for his films, opting instead to just paste the actor on a one-sheet with some text. If anyone deserves better, it's him. 

It's not a list without our requisite Cage entry and this one doesn't disappointment. It seems like they've ironically gone to great lengths to age him in this poster for The Old Way. But his name sure is perfectly centered on that hat, depriving us the knowledge of what crazy hair he'll be sporting this time.

The most dramatic rose ceremony ever.

The Son blah blah blah blah Florian Zeller blah blah blah Hugh Jackman blah blah blah blah. When pull quote posters are done well, there's nothing better, but this is just an mountain of small, unreadable italicized text. On the bright side, this does look like Laura Dern.  

Forget about appearing on the same poster, Eva Longoria and Matt Walsh don't look like they're even sharing the same country, state or zip code here.

 

What a disappointment. The Whale should have been the movie poster of the year. Just an illustration of Brendan Fraser's head on a whale's body. Someone needs to get on that. Instead, we get the now ubiquitous screenshot cleaned up and photoshopped to such an extent that it actually undermines the dramatic subject matter. The bright aqua title type is an interesting choice, but with this uninspired approach A24 has again revealed their discomfort promoting the film due to the fat suit "controversy." The hesitancy isn't doing the film or Fraser any favors.