BUGONIA's Provocation

Emma Stone is our greatest actor

*loose allusions to the film's conclusion, but otherwise no spoilers*

Provocation.

In a direct inverse, though certainly of a similar kind, to this year’s excellent Eddington, even sharing an Ari Aster between them, comes the latest Emma Stone/Jesse Plemmons/Yorgos Lanthimos hitter Bugonia, and like 2024's Kinds of Kindness, it is a movie of deferred provocation. Where Eddington elected for an overt political approach, Bugonia shows us a world certainly colored in those delusions, strifes and oppressions, but one that falls far less one for one. There are metaphors and images here ripe for political dissemination, yet thanks largely to Lanthimos’ capable, ever devious, hand, never is one single topic permitted to overpower the material. While a film featuring a Green Day centered torture scene could probably never truly be called subtle, the resulting film is one providing a satirical and explosive exploration of a world flattening itself, and it is thanks to its own refusal to be obvious that the emotional impact ends up landing so well. Ari Aster showed us this year specifically just how irrevocable things have become, and with Bugonia, Yorgos Lanthimos presents the same ideas, if not generally, perhaps all the more emotionally.

Accusations of emotional resonance have hardly ever been leveled at Lanthimos, and in most ways Bugonia is no different. Hopefully few approach his work at this point expecting to find sentimentality, yet even beyond this, the film is one of dark comedy, never playing anything stated in the text for its baseline value. While this approach in the past has made some work seem overly cynical or drowning in its own distance, it is precisely why Bugonia works as without this careful calibration, the metaphors and political musing would become obtuse, plunging off the side of the Earth. Bugonia is indeed a refutation of corporations and false altruism, but it’s not only that because of how Emma Stone performs and is framed. This is an examination, even a lament, into conspiratorial manosphere podcasting leading to male violence, but the knife is twisted further allowing things to land more distilled. Climate change, trauma, capitalism, lies, AI, health care and perhaps every ill currently plaguing society could all be considered as thematic musings for the film, yet despite this load it is able to thrive because it refuses to face them for what they are in real life, or to treat them with language necessary in our world. This is of course provocative, even perhaps more than Eddington which at least aesthetically started at a point of familiarity, yet as the film is still emotionally aware of the very real issues in play, by the time the movie reaches its final images, the feeling of sadness is palpable, finding its own unique effectiveness. 

After so many years of blunt satirical instruments, even many which are praiseworthy and worthwhile, there is something rather refreshing about Lanthimos’ hand here. The story, and its function, is given center stage yet there is a shallowness to the images which in contradiction distills further depth. No speech, character or single moment can be taken at face value and as such those twists and provocative pulls are given the forefront, landing with greater ease than other satires. The film’s screenwriter is a credited co-conspirator of The Menu, a lumberly obvious, if still kind of fun, bit of pandering send-up to the wealthy. The rich of that film, who are shockingly not cannibalized, come under direct fire from its screenplay, sentiments which, while certainly worthwhile, fail the film for the lack of specificity. Director Mark Mylod’s camera, which functioned to great effect in Succession, attempts an almost style-less realism, which ultimately lets the film down. Aesthetic and function exist in direct relation to substance and theme. The same broad reaching could have landed with like obviousness in Bugonia, however, by virtue of its execution, the film finds something different, something ultimately more cinematic, and emotionally profound. Where The Menu’s sentiments might be summarized in a single sentence, or perhaps restaurant order, Bugonia’s are far more myriad, all stemming from an emotional truth. 

Yorgos Lathimos and his team are simply a perfect fit for this material. The vista vision like lensing, ace performances and off kilter images certainly power the film's unique perspective and emotional impact. What’s perhaps most immediately shocking is how Lanthimos holds back, at least initially, especially in comparison to his past work. The film opens with juxtaposition, showing the ways Jesse Plemmons and a wonderful Aidan Doyle, in his debut role, live contrasted against Emma Stone’s CEO routine. Yet, this juxtaposition, while not bereft of meaning typical for that kind of montage, is so distanced and so bizarre a new kind of satire emerges, one more in line with movements of “anti-comedy,” (jokes bereft of traditionally comedic forms such as set-up/punchline and subject matter) than with dialectical meaning. It mines comedy not from distortion but from leaning back almost fully from the punchline, presenting darkness as is, finding there an ever so slight bent of satire or comedy. Lanthimos, who is no small associate with grandiose stylings, takes his time here, allowing most of this set-up, and indeed much of the film, to play out in a series of close-ups and dialogues. This does not work without deeply committed actors and a director who is unafraid to truly lean their film upon this weight. When the movie eventually allows the more Lanthimosian elements to find their way to center stage, the true scope becomes clear. 

Genuinely feel Jesse Plemmons is still an under appreciated talent

Bugonia is a comic tragedy, yet not one derived from withholding character or audience knowledge, but in the ways it plays with the limitations of understanding in both the satirical world of the film and real life. The movie knows its audience will likely be critical of Emma Stone and her neoliberal corporate musing, and yet, equally so that they cannot trust Jesse Plemmons and his conspiracy driven insanity. It is a mistake to claim the film is either somehow pro-conspiracy or even an obvious “eat the rich” treatise. Instead it paints another question: when the people who might have been able to help us are so lost within the systems we’ve built anyways, what can even be done? CEOs and capitalism are destructive, inhuman and indeed alien to us, yet equally in their control, part and parcel to that system, are the means whereby they might be confronted, fully out of reach. Likewise, the movie leads its audience into believing it is a small chamber piece, only revealing its true scale gradually. This trick, elevated by the inherent cinematic power of the human face, and betrayed by the grandiose score, is part of the film’s ultimately grand provocation. The bombastic horn refrains feel out of place as if heralding from another film of greater scale, yet by the film’s conclusion, it is clear these melancholic, wild, if still sarcastic, leitmotifs have been properly judged. Bugonia is an epic of small execution. 

To some, the “twist” and overall ending seem to have read as betraying a progressive worldview, even one so often espoused in real life by many of the film’s participants. However, this neglects not only the default provocation of the story, but also a richer thematic reading. While a more overt commentary like Eddington still resulted in a misunderstanding of intentions, that film provides a more approachable thesis as it shows characters that are less stylized. However, by exact virtue of its style, Bugonia adds another shade to Eddington's exploration, and like that film, the ultimate feeling here is one of great tragedy. Yorgos Lanthimos may not be one to generate true empathy but in the ways the story approaches certain modern parallels and aesthetics, it ultimately finds something indeed satirical and amusing, yet all the while deeply tragic. By the time it reached its concluding images, the sardonic wit had not evaporated but, as the film's greatest provocation, morphed into a distinct feeling of great mourning and loss.

Saw this in theaters which made all of their faces all the more transportive