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Review : Vivarium (2020)

With such a large selection of movies to take in during my race towards wrapping up 2020, certain factors help me make decisions in regards to which films take priorities over others.  Vivarium ticked several very important boxes while I was doing my research, with suspenseful horror, science-fiction and Jesse Eisenberg especially standing out.  I am certainly glad that I took these markers into consideration, as Vivarium thoroughly impressed me.

Tom (Jesse Eisenberg) and Gemma (Imogen Poots) are a young couple looking to purchase their first home together.  After a brief and eccentric meeting with real estate agent Martin (Jonathan Aris), the couple is convinced to follow him to Yonder, a new development full of similar looking homes laid out in a labyrinth-like fashion.  Martin shows the couple a home marked No. 9, but disappears before Tom or Gemma are able to talk to him about their decision.  Seemingly stranded in the Yonder neighborhood, the couple tries to drive out, but find themselves stuck in a supposed loop that continuously returns them back to No. 9.  Frustrated and out of gas, the couple opts to stay the night to prepare for an escape on foot the following day, but after finding themselves victim to the same loop, Tom burns the house to the ground.  The couple falls asleep as the house burns, but when they wake up the next morning, not only is the home fully restored, but a baby in a box awaits them with the inclusion of odd, ominous instructions : “Raise the child and be released”.

Vivarium has a strange ability to seem vaguely familiar while also coming off as completely unique, at times reading like an extremely dark and less comical take on Groundhog’s Day, an updated version of the Twilight Zone, or a twisted Truman Show.  The Martin character exhibits a spider and the fly approach, luring his victims unknowingly deeper and deeper into his web until they are snared.  Similar to a spider’s web, Tom and Gemma find themselves pulled deeper in the more they fight the very unnatural events, up to the point that acceptance becomes the only way of coping with an unknown dark fate.  The touches of horror and science-fiction are present, though not heavily pronounced... the “hell is other people” approach runs vibrant throughout the proceedings.  Tom and Gemma do their best to rationalize their circumstances and find a logical approach to escape, but ultimately, find themselves taking shots in the dark at an unknown target.  The human struggle of trying to imprint our humanity onto the unfamiliar is also a vibrant driving force for the narrative.

The madness of repetition, the monotony of the mundane and the dark uncertainty of predetermination create a trident of suspense and psychological terror that not only cages our protagonists, but creates an unease in the viewer.  The pressure is turned higher when the “son” that Tom and Gemma are presented turns out to be a dark, sick cosmic joke in the form of absurdist, off-kilter mockery.  The fear of being put in unknown isolation is also a key, with Tom and Gemma having to result to defending themselves against a literal nothing through a back and forth of trial and error-based primal and routine instincts.  The cherry on top of all of this is the son, who is one of the creepiest cinematic creations to date as his innocent form reveals a psychological monster capable of grotesque divide and conquer games.

The bold, abstractly-styled pastels that adorn Yonder make the tone extremely uneasy, to the point where its painting-like “familiarity” is off-putting.  These pastels are so permeant that it gives the film a very uncanny valley feel, as if the characters are occupying a living and breathing painting.  The voyeuristic cinematography and artistic editing pitch the tension to feverish heights, making the viewer feel just as lost and hopeless as Tom and Gemma.   The score use is minimal, especially in the first half of the film, which not only amplifies the uneasiness of the silent moments, but makes the points where music does invade feel like lightning-charged moments of life.  The strong writing and performances create masterful tone shifts between fearful suspense and existential sadness.

Jesse Eisenberg brings an unfamiliar edge and sharpness to his performance that is normally used for comedy, but is embraced and ramped up to a standoffish, prideful level.  In opposition of this is the curiosity and need to understand presented by Imogen Poots, who has her own sense of brooding darkness the comes from the sly deceptiveness she wrestles for control of.  Senan Jennings uses a controlled and extremely directed still sinisterness that is downright unnerving when used in tandem with the vocal pitching.  Eanna Hardwicke is slightly less effective as an enlarged version of Jennings, largely (no pun intended) due to less post-production trickery usage, but he does use the foundation Jennings provides to continue emitting an aggressively unnerving presence.  Jonathan Aris and his calculated, off-putting behavior set a strong early tone for the absurdness to follow.  

Films like Vivarium are the reason that I like to try and play catch-up at the end of most years.  I went from knowing nothing about this film’s existence to having it place relatively high on what will be my top films list, and I know for a fact that I will revisit this film numerous times as the years progress.  If you’re looking for a quality movie that you may have overlooked, then Vivarium has you covered.