Don't Look Up: Film Review

The cast, Jennifer Lawrence, Leonardo DiCaprio, Meryl Streep, Jonah Hill and Director Adam Mckay attending the world premier of Don’t Look Up at Lincoln Center, New York City. Credit: Dimitrios Kambouris, GettyImages

Don’t Look Up, the star-studded satire from Adam McKay (Anchorman, Step Brothers) about the world’s reaction – or rather lack of it - to a planet-killing comet, shares surprising parallels with comedian Michelle Woolf’s famously savage speech at the White House Correspondents Dinner in 2018. Woolf not only took aim at then President Donald Trump and his acolytes, but also the very media representatives who had invited her to speak:

“You guys are obsessed with Trump. Did you used to date him? Because you pretend like you hate him, but I think you love him. I think what no one in this room wants to admit is that Trump has helped all of you. He couldn’t sell steaks or vodka or water or college or ties or Eric, but he has helped you. He’s helped you sell your papers and your books and your TV. You helped create this monster, and now you’re profiting off of him.”

She wasn’t invited back.

Much of the scorn of McKay’s film is aimed at the very media Woolf criticised who, when told about the discovery of a planet-killing comet, are more concerned with social media interactions; as morning chat show host Brie Evantee, played by Cate Blanchett, says: “keeping the bad news light.” Clearly Blanchett had a lot of fun in the role of a sociopathic avatar of the typically peroxide blonde FOX News host.

The two main astronomers, PhD astronomy student Kate Dibiasky (Jennifer Lawrence) and her professor Dr Randall Mindy (Leonardo DiCaprio), alongside Dr Teddy Oglethorpe (Rob Morgan), are initially bemused at the total lack of interest in their apocalyptic tidings; relegated to the ‘science segment’ on the news behind popstar Riley Bina’s (Arianna Grande) turbulent love life; left hanging by Meryl Streep’s Trumpian President Orlean and her douchebag Chief Of Staff son (Jonah Hill) until it becomes politically expedient for them to actually do something. It’s something of an obvious parallel to how scientists have vainly tried to warn the world of the consequences of climate change.

Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence attend the world premier of Don’t Look Up, Lincoln Center, New York City. Credit: Taylor Hill, GettyImages

The political commentary of Don’t Look Up is not at all subtle, a clear repudiation of the Trumpian politics that have so consumed America since Donald Trump’s shock victory in the 2016 election. America’s jingoism and saviour complex are also poked at – it’s hinted that rather than let Russia, China and India take the credit for trying to save the world with a rival project, America nukes them instead. While at times it feels like McKay is using a sledgehammer to crack a nut (Dr Mindy’s breakdown on live television veers perilously close to hammy territory), no one said that satire always has to be subtle, especially in a world often driven to distraction by inane nonsense.

The sharpest commentary is embodied by Mark Rylance’s scene-stealing portrayal of Sir Peter Isherwell – a creepy amalgamation of billionaires such as Bezos, Branson, Musk and Zuckerberg – the CEO of social media platform BASH, who sees the comet as an investment opportunity.

Indeed the pervasiveness of social media is regularly slated. Everything is for the cameras. Everything is content. Even Dr Mindy, who is initially a nervous wreck who needs a Xanax to appear on television, becomes increasingly comfortable in the spotlight as “America’s sexiest scientist,” sacrificing his scientific integrity for access.

Lawrence’s portrayal of Kate is the most sympathetic character in the film, (her obsession with a general who charges for ostensibly free snacks is an amusing running joke) even if her well-intentioned desire to tell people the truth and nothing but leads to violence and anarchy. Kate finds solace in Timothée Chalamet’s dopey conspiracy theory-minded Yule, telling him “The truth is way more depressing. They’re not even smart enough to be as evil as you’re giving them credit for.”

As disaster approaches, the world splits into two diametrically opposed camps: just look up and don’t look up, reflecting the way in which much of political discourse in America (and in Britain before we get too smug) has devolved into tribal slanging matches devoid of any nuance. In the most revealing, humanising line of the movie, Rylance’s otherwise inhumane Isherwell cuts Dr Mindy down to size: “I know what you are. I know who you are. You’re a lifestyle idealist. You think you’re motivated by beliefs--high ethical beliefs--but you just run towards pleasure and away from pain. Like a field mouse.”

For some, especially those in the media that Michelle Woolf roasted in her speech, the pleasure comes from pain and the confected politics of eternal grievance that brooks no dissent, whether on the right or left, a never-ending cycle of outrage driven by clicks, likes and retweets.