Cosmopolis is philosophical poetry in motion told through a series of increasingly bizarre and abtruse vignettes that doesn’t wait for you to catch up, a tactic that kept me glued to the screen in anxious anticipation and careful study for it’s entire one hour and 49 minute run time. In a word, it’s brilliant. The prosaic and poetic script from director David Cronenberg lays the backbone for a film that at first seems robotic but as you loosens up to it, the non-colloquial language and theatrical tone keeps you on your toes while engaging you with it’s bleak views on the state of the postmodern world.
From the get-go, we’re told that life is about eating and talking and these two activities essentially fill every frame of the film. It’s very talky and often heady but it’s all tremendously provocative and ultimately intoxicating.
Cronenberg frames capitalism and mass market finance as a specter to be rebelled against and pits a wildly young billionaire at odds with his lifestyle choices as the world around him throttles in protest. A post-Twilight Robert Pattinson fills the shoes of the wealthy protagonist, the aptly named Eric Packer, and his transformation throughout the film is undeniably measured as he encounters a host of people during a limo ride across NYC who slowly but surely breakdown his crumbling worldview. Pattinson’s performance may start robotic and deadpan, and vaguely parallels Christian Bale‘s turn in American Psycho, but his slow emotional maturation is powerful and cathartic.
The content, framing and directorial choices within the film are all very hallucinatory and metaphorical and poise meaningful questions about the connection between immortality and technology and presents a warning of the growing fortune mongers. This asks, has mass disparity changed what it means to be human?
An ongoing bit about rats seems to be derived from this inherent social disconnect along wealth lines but is played in such a way that you have to seek out the subtext rather than have it hunting you down. What plays out onscreen is a showcase for how the human condition has essentially become alienated from itself and if you’re willing to engage in the narrative that Cronenberg is creating, you are sure to have a meaning experience with the film.
Much like the message carefully grafted onto the film, we see the dangerous intersection of anarchy and relentless progress and we are helpless bystanders as the film, and the world, surge on. This is a cautionary and timely tale that really speaks to the heart of our economic and social state of affairs and borders on guru-level philosophy.
A stand out performance from Paul Giamatti punctuates the many themes of the film and draw the whole thing to an open-ended but rewarding close.
While this certainly is not a film for everyone and I’m sure that any tween going to see this for their favorite Twilight vampire would protest that this is the worst film ever made ever, it is an intellectual and emotional experience that is undeniably theatrical and wholly captivating.
