Ari Aster’s Eddington, a black dramedy set in late May 2020, dives headfirst into the feverish mess of Covid, social media, and Black Lives Matter, with mixed results. Starring Joaquin Phoenix as Sheriff Joe Cross, a bruised-ego lawman in a New Mexico town, the film tackles the era’s digital and social fault lines—phones, conspiracies, protests—while aiming to satirize a world unraveling. It’s a high-wire act: Aster, known for gut-punching horror like Hereditary and Midsommar, tries to weave the internet’s hyper-reality into cinema, a medium that often fumbles digital life. Eddington mostly succeeds in capturing 2020’s disorienting vibe but stumbles in its bloated second half. Here’s a sharp, skeptical take on its ambitions, triumphs, and missteps, delivered with a smirk at the audacity of tackling such a raw cultural moment.

The Premise: 2020’s Perfect Storm

Eddington opens with an unhoused man ranting about TikTok and conspiracies in the New Mexico desert, setting the stage for a satire rooted in late May 2020—a time of Covid lockdowns, George Floyd’s murder, and Black Lives Matter protests. Sheriff Joe, played by Phoenix, navigates a town fracturing under mask mandates, virtual town halls, and internet-fueled paranoia. Emma Stone’s Louise, his wife, falls into pedophilia panic message boards, while Pedro Pascal’s Ted Garcia, his mayoral rival, battles him on Facebook Live. The film’s hyper-specific backdrop—lock screens ticking through a week of chaos, Zoom calls, Instagram scrolls—grounds its exploration of a society teetering on the edge.

Aster’s gamble is weaving real-world elements—Covid etiquette, BLM tensions, conspiracy theories—into a cinematic narrative. Phones are omnipresent: characters doomscroll on Instagram, sell crafts on Etsy, or watch Bill Gates microchip videos. This verisimilitude, rare in Hollywood, nails the claustrophobic feel of 2020, from 6-foot distancing to silent mask-shaming in grocery stores. X posts from July 24, 2025, praise the film’s “eerie accuracy” but note its “uneven tone,” reflecting its polarizing reception.

The Triumph: Nailing Digital Life

Aster succeeds where most films fail: capturing the internet’s role in shaping 2020’s psyche. Unlike clunky depictions in Don’t Look Up or Mountainhead, Eddington integrates digital life seamlessly. Phone screens aren’t just props—they’re windows into characters’ unraveling minds, from Joe’s iMessages waking him from a drugged stupor to teens gathering maskless, egged on by Instagram. The film’s first half crackles with dread, mirroring the era’s blurred lines between right and wrong. A scene where Joe refuses a mask in a store, sparking a showdown, feels ripped from 2020’s headlines, as does the town’s racial tensions erupting over BLM protests.

This specificity—anchoring the story in a single week, with lock screens tracking time—sets Eddington apart from films like Tár or Eighth Grade, which use screens to explore individual psyches. Aster aims for a cultural snapshot, capturing the “everywhere problem” of a hyper-connected world where online vitriol spills offline. X users call it “unsettlingly real,” with one noting, “It’s like reliving 2020’s worst week.”

The Missteps: A Tonal Fumble

The film’s second half, however, loses steam. A mid-act shift to violence and a “tedious slog” of a climax, despite Darius Khondji’s stunning cinematography, dilute its impact. Aster’s pivot from horror to auteur-driven satire feels unsteady, with the descent into chaos coming off as heavy-handed. Austin Butler’s over-the-top wellness guru, peddling conspiracies, borders on caricature, undermining the film’s nuance. Critics on X lament the “bloated” narrative, with one calling the shift “a cop-out that mutes the stellar cast.”

Aster’s swipes at all sides—white leftist ego, conspiracy nuts, small-town racism—aim for balance but sometimes feel stacked in favor of Phoenix’s flawed Sheriff Joe. His dismissal of BLM protests as “not a here problem” rings hollow when the film later proves otherwise, a point X users debate fiercely, with some praising its honesty, others calling it “smug.”

Why It Matters: Revisiting a Rupture

Eddington’s ambition—to dissect 2020’s social and digital upheaval—makes it a rare cinematic artifact. Five years on, the world avoids revisiting that year’s trauma, from Tom Hanks’ Covid diagnosis to George Floyd’s murder on May 25. Aster’s film forces a reckoning, showing how the internet amplified fear, anger, and division. Its portrayal of neighbors doubting neighbors, fueled by message boards and viral headlines, captures a truth: in 2020, every issue was an “everywhere problem.” The film’s success lies in making that chaos feel visceral, even if its execution wobbles.

The Road Ahead: A Polarizing Milestone

Eddington is a bold, flawed experiment, joining a short list of films (Tár, Eighth Grade) that get digital life right. Its first half is a masterclass in tension, but the second’s overreach may alienate viewers. Aster’s shift from horror to satire will divide audiences—some on X call it “genius,” others “a mess.” Yet, by tackling Covid, social media, and BLM without flinching, Eddington offers a mirror to a moment we’d rather forget. Whether it’s a triumph or a near-miss, it’s a film that demands to be wrestled with.