Written and directed by Ari Aster, Eddington is the most unlikeable film of 2025 thus far.

And I couldn’t help but fall in love with it.

Set in May of 2020, Eddington takes place in a fictional, rural community in New Mexico where the city’s elevation is higher than its population. Nevertheless, despite the isolated nature of their town, the people want to do their part to help in the middle of a pandemic. Led by the (seemingly) progressive and well-liked Mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal), the township values supporting one another by wearing masks in the early days of COVID-19.

Though, not everyone is onboard with mask mandates, especially Sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix), the community’s representative of law and order who has an axe to grind with Garcia. Seeing an opportunity to take down his rival, Cross begins to campaign against the mayor in the upcoming election. Yet, as social injustices begin to rise, Cross finds himself lost in a sea of controversies that threaten to tear the town apart.

With Eddington, Aster uses his small town as a microcosm for American politics in the midst of the Pandemic. Set at a time when social anxiety was at its highest, there’s no question that culture felt like it was a moment of reckoning. And Eddington is happy to rip off the band aid covering humanity’s sins and stares gleefully at the bleeding.

In many ways, the film feels like a modern western. The city is dry and dusty and tensions are high as the heat. (In fact, the film’s final moments even end with a showdown in the centre of the street.) However, whereas the traditional westerns usually feature an outsider coming in to bring help, the people of Eddington are largely on their own. And it could eat them alive.

Everything about this film is deliberately constructed to be controversial. Conversations surrounding Black Lives Matter, #MeToo, the evolution of ‘fake news’, Indigenous rights, white privilege and more escalate tensions between towns people as they attempt to navigate a world on the edge of disaster. Set during the early days of the pandemic, these are North American culture’s open wounds on display with vicious (and inexplicable) honesty.

And that’s also what makes the film utterly compelling.

Eddington could be a film about working together to forage a new path forward. This could be an opportunity to offer some hope for a world that’s oversaturated with information, as people scratch and claw for truth in a time of information overload. But Aster isn’t known for offering the audience simple answers. And, here, he seems more than comfortable watching the world burn.

In Eddington, every opportunity for the townspeople to engage one another becomes a potential minefield, as they range emotionally from scared to furious. Characters suspect one another of wrongdoing based solely on accusations; some baseless, others not. The nature of truth is called into question as misinformation spreads rapidly over the internet. Communities are torn apart over issues such as wearing masks and racial tension. People are accused of being ‘part of the problem’ if they aren’t viewed as an ally in the right way. Meanwhile, others do want to show support but feel powerless (or, at the very least, utterly confused).

Most importantly, absolutely no one is a hero.

But at the centre of the storm lies a gritty and raw performance by Phoenix. As the film’s central figure, Phoenix portrays Sheriff Cross as a fascinating hot mess of a human being.  He is detestable in some moments and empathetic in others. Generally well liked by his community, he also seems to be in over his head much of the time. And he is constantly trying to repress his dark side.

For Phoenix, this sort of role is nothing new. Throughout his career, he has excelled at morally complex characters but, as Cross, he keeps his character under restraint. Under constant pressure, Cross is a man who is being pushed to ‘do something’ but seems unable to do so. (“When are you going to find your anger?,” his mother-in-law chastises.) Even so, he still seems to be a man who believes he’s doing the right thing. (Whether or not he is doing the right thing is another question entirely.) And, as the troubles begin to compound, Cross risks falling back into old patterns.

Sitting in the centre of the storm, Eddington becomes an excruciatingly open discussion on the painful realizations about our world that have come to light over the past few years. And, at the same time, the film is also candid about the ways that some corners of culture have fought to achieve equilibrium again. As such, Eddington is both staggeringly bold and unquestionably divisive. Aster forces the viewer to look inward and, arguably, pick a side. And, regardless of their choice, he doesn’t allow them to be comfortable in their decision.

Truly, this is the sort of film that is simply… unlikable. It’s ethically (and emotionally) brutal. Every character is flawed in such ways that one can’t help but wonder if there are any ‘good people’ left. Even restoring hope feels utterly impossible.

But it’s that same willingness to sit in the muck that kept me riveted. We are not meant to enjoy our time in Eddington. Instead, by visiting their small town, we’re supposed to use it as a time of painful self-reflection. Because of that, I fully expect that many will (understandably) drive past their cinematic community, even if stopping by might be worth the trip for everyone.

Eddington is available in theatres on Friday, July 18th, 2025.