Courtney Howard // Film Critic
DIGGER
Rated R, 2 hours and 8 minutes
Directed by: Alejandro G. Iñárritu
Starring: Tom Cruise, John Goodman, Riz Ahmed, Sandra Hüller, Michael Stuhlbarg, Jesse Plemons, Robert John Burke
DIGGER is not a quiet movie in any sense of the descriptor. It’s a disruptor, audibly loud – at times, deliberately cacophonous – and meant to provoke a rousing response from its audience. The satirical farce centered on an arrogant billionaire’s uncontrolled hubris that leads the world into a catastrophe wants to get us fired up about the themes, personalities and hot button issues it’s discussing. Its soundscape, in both score and sound design, amplifies the jumbled chaos afflicting the characters internally and externally.
Yet when director/ co-writer Alejandro G. Iñárritu begins to drill deeper, the film’s palpable poignancy, compelling complexities and assertive angst become propulsive conduits towards an intense resolution that reverberates long after the sobering end credits. Masterfully captivating, kinetically electric and audaciously assured, it’s powder keg cinema, exploding in blistering heat and dazzling fireworks. Coupled with Tom Cruise’s brilliantly committed, tour de force performance, an entire ensemble at the peaks of their careers and exquisite production design that also deserves top billing, it’s a veritable masterclass in filmmaking.
Digger Rockwell (Cruise) is an aging Texan oil tycoon whose main goals in life are making money and keeping his dying white fluffy cat Maggie alive. His life, from morning’s light onward, is unfiltered turmoil. On one such morning, while awaiting his ailing cat’s vet, he receives a frantic call from an employee in Greenland stating that a gigantic glacier has broken loose and is going to threaten Europe with a massive tidal wave. Soon thereafter, his entire base of operations explodes, leaving many men dead and the glacier on a path of destruction.
Our loathsome antihero consults a team of scientists, led by Dr. Genash (Riz Ahmed), who all warn Digger about the impending doom. Still, Digger is more worried about his upcoming multi-billion dollar merger with his stepsister Emma’s (Sandra Hüller) eco-minded company than the lives of others. As it turns out, so are the bumbling officials in charge of the United States government, led by blowhard President Compson (John Goodman) and his cowering Vice President (Michael Stuhlbarg), and the military, led by General Fitzgerald (Robert John Burke), who would all rather push the escalating problem and blame onto another country. Their underhanded efforts to dodge responsibility spells disaster for everyone on the planet.
Stanley Kubrick’s DR. STRANGELOVE is an obvious influence on the film’s tonal reverberation, but so are inspired atmospheric pulls from the Coen Brothers’ and Terry Gilliam’s oeuvres, emphasizing ludicrous absurdities that dip into the surreal. There’s a deeper layer to the narrative at play (one that I won’t reveal lest I spoil the surprise) and yet Iñárritu, along with his co-writers Sabina Berman, Jez Butterworth, Alexander Dinelaris and Nicolás Giacobone, makes sure everything functions on the surface level before delving into the depths of their sentiments. Their gimmick’s twist works, furthering their urgent commentary that satire is what we need to grapple with harsh realities and mind-numbing insanity. The idea that the government is inept, causing our own destruction and societal breakdowns, will always be evergreen – both timely and timeless. The concept that panic should be used a resource is as frightening as it is funny when utilized as a scene’s motivational pull.
Character construction holds a lot of profundity. Jesse Plemons, who plays a meek-yet-mighty investor, represents the voice of reason. He fills his 3rd act soliloquy with effective, deep feeling pathos and nuance despite the dialogue’s blunt, heavy hand. Ahmed taps into the underbelly of his character, gifting him with an aching heart. Sophie Wilde, who plays an antagonist to Cruise’s character, mirrors principles of fortitude. Digger’s cat is essentially a metaphor. He has the hardest of hearts, except when it comes to Maggie, whom he babies, cradling her in his arms, feeding her like an infant and bathing her daily due to her incontinence. Later, we learn she’s scratched and bit him and there’s a terrific exchange between him and Dr. Ganesh where Digger floats the idea that maybe the cat hated him all along instead of the action being a way for her to cling to life. The lone answer he’ll tolerate is that she hated him all along because that doesn’t open this man up to any vulnerabilities, grief, or emotions.
Cruise feels completely at home underneath those sublime prosthetics (courtesy of Kazu Hiro). He walks the fine line of crafting a character – not a caricature – out of the blowhard billionaire and the honest, vulnerable man buried within the role. He almost single-handedly delivers a boldly invigorating, live-wire show at all times. He goes toe-to-toe with supporting players and it’s a treat to watch him work, going big and blustery, against consistently fantastic actors like Goodman and Hüller. He moves in quick lockstep with them, matching their rhythms and energy. There’s also a brief aside between him and Stuhlbarg that’s uproariously funny in its spoofing of archetypes. Cruise is in full control during film’s biggest set piece – a 10 minute monologue where he wages an argument with a monolithic, irascibly rowdy council, who become violently upset. The choreography of the physical chaos and abrasive noise threatening to envelop him is jaw-dropping.
Aesthetically, it earns top marks. Dennis Gassner’s production design speaks volumes about the characters who inhabit these textured environments. Digger’s antler-rimmed mirrors (set up to infinitely reflect him) and the crocodiles that hang upside down on his ceiling are amongst the highlights. The president’s war room and bedroom chambers look like they’re straight out of A CLOCKWORK ORANGE. The use of miniatures is truly gob smacking, augmenting the narrative’s connective pull. Emmanuel “Chivo” Lubezki’s cinematography gives the proceedings a symbolically smoggy quality, hinting at a reality lurking underneath – the smog of war, if you will. Hair and makeup design also hint at the larger scale and scope of the picture. Jacqueline West’s wardrobe is show-stopping, from Digger’s saturated maroon suit that stands out from a sea of grey and Emma’s loose suit reflecting her loose moral code.
DIGGER, in its full breadth of context, is a masterpiece that should be recognized as such in its current era, rather than years down the line after folks collectively decided our worsening situations (ecological, governmental and corporate) are indeed outlandish and worth laughing at. The filmmakers recognize and observe that type of artistic remove throughout their farcical notions. It lives on a razor’s edge with its stirring truth and audacity. And it’s up to us to dig in.
Grade: A
DIGGER is in theaters on October 2.
