Reviews
‘Iron Lung’ Review: Exceptionally Atmospheric Cosmic Horror
As Iron Lung begins, the film places you in an overhead shot looking down at a submarine that’s seen better days. Jagged metal teeth of a broken cage sit at its head, illuminated by a light from the ship above that’s about to cut it loose. As you’re about to be dropped into a roiling ocean of blood, you become quickly invested in its story.
A dire paternal voiceover runs you through your place in the world as an observer: someone is being sent into the “waters” of a far-off moon in a dead, dark galaxy. They’re in search of an answer you’re automatically aware will never be enough and a penance they will never attain. It prompts an obvious, cutting question: if Hell is where we’re looking for an answer, how bad must things be among the stars to go searching there for hope?
A Surprising Outing for Writer and Director Mark Fischbach
The debut feature film of writer and director Mark Fischbach, better known to the internet at large as Markiplier, is as surprising as it is atmospheric. And no, not surprising because Fischbach is an internet personality crossing over into film. And no, not surprising because this is a video game adaptation that is actually quite good.
The surprise here is mainly from the way Fischbach dodges a number of first-time filmmaker torpedoes that would otherwise sink the film straight to the sea floor. It’s in the very clear coordination and trust he has with his cast and crew. In a way, the film itself is a mirror of the submersible his character is forced to pilot: flawed, surely, but strong enough to complete its mission and deliver an exceptional experience.
What Is Iron Lung About Exactly?
The story goes as follows: in the wake of an event called the Quiet Rapture, the stars themselves have been snuffed out. Most of the galaxy has been plunged into sudden darkness, and a mass dying off has consumed countless worlds (think the worst possible aftermath to The Nine Billion Names of God).
Convicted for a reprehensible crime, the convict Simon (played by Markiplier himself) has been given a rare opportunity to return to life among the survivors. The mission is to pilot a death trap of a one-man submarine into the blood oceans of an alien moon, looking for a scientific sample useful enough to earn his freedom. That is, assuming he doesn’t lose his mind or his life in the process.
Bespoke Set Design That Matches the Premise Perfectly
Iron Lung should be commended first and foremost for being a bottle film with the perfect set design to match. Not overly ambitious, but not too simplistic either. Contained in a marvel of a small space, the submarine here is a tactile nightmare of rusty metal and antiquated technology you never get sick of seeing more of.
While Fischbach and director of photography Philip Roy have the camera linger in close ups almost too often, I don’t blame them for wanting to capture the finer details and leer at them. It’s clear every inch of this condensation covered machine was engineered by the art team and production design to emphasize its prison cell qualities as a barely functional vessel.
The ship’s external camera fires off like a flash bulb on its interior, barely illuminating the cabin with its next horrific image of the sea floor before plunging us back into darkness. The oxygen gauge and its cold robotic voice are a countdown to the painful annihilation that awaits its pilot. Its proximity sensors give only the barest indications of what’s going on outside, ticking a dull noise warning us: you are not alone. It’s a punishment to operate, and the set design as well as the very solid sound design that accompany it make that violently clear and effectively spinetingling.
Translation From Game to Film Isn’t So Perfect Though
This perfect setting isn’t always used perfectly though. The translation of the game’s mechanics and gameplay to the screen are both a weakness and a strength. They make the pacing of the first third run to a slow start, especially when Fischbach’s screenplay grinds against the strong suit of the film’s cinematography: the panic of it all.
Like its video game source material, David Szymanski’s Iron Lung, the film is really at its best when it’s instilling a sense of active and imminent panic. A tone that matches the borrowed time the submarine is glued together with. Putting out fires, both literal and metaphorical, ratcheting up its claustrophobia as you’re placed cheek to cheek with Simon in steamy, metallic darkness. This is where Iron Lung shines.
Markiplier’s Performance in Iron Lung is Hit or Miss, But Mostly Hits
It’s outside of these moments of panic where the weakest parts of the script and Fischbach’s performance are highlighted. Some weak line deliveries and beats of dead air kill the real tight headlock the film could have you gripped in from start to finish. And while Fischbach is phenomenal at playing terrified or pleading or even simple exhaustion in the face of the impossible, he really requires someone to bounce off of as his solo work just isn’t as compelling. Even the clunkiest bits of dialogue between him and his jailer (Caroline Kaplan) are better than the best of his moments where he talks to himself or tries to inject some humor into the bleak story.
This is a shame too, because the minimalist storytelling and background we get for his character is genuinely very intriguing. It’s thematically rich for what the film is trying to say about the power and terror of belief, and it’s doubly satisfying that the film has enough confidence to not lay everything out in a longwinded speech explaining the motives and lore that landed him here.
All that being said, his performance is hit or miss, but he mostly hits. The dialogue becomes more urgent as we approach the climax, and all of the cast delivers on that impending doom nicely. It reaches its peak in the final act, and Fischbach is on fire as he struggles to hold himself together in the face of absolute madness leaching its way into the pressurized cabin.
Iron Lung: A Redemptive Finale With Pure Liquid Body Horror
What a fantastic final act it is, one that makes up for its imperfection in the first two parts with a homerun of pure liquid body horror. It’s just phenomenal how the film’s digital and practical effects present the true horrors of Iron Lung. There’s a near perfect mesh between the two, and they highlight the best influences of similar genre films that came before.
Soaked with all the gore, madness, and mystery of the likes of Event Horizon and Pandorum, Iron Lung is a worthy successor in the cosmic horror genre as it rises above its own problems. It’s a moody, environmentally precise stunner of a horror film that sets a benchmark as the movie to beat for forthcoming releases this year.
As much as I love horror, genre fans can be a bit…gatekeepy. Over the years, we’ve seen prominent comedy legends dip their toes into horror (Jordan Peele, Chris Rock, Danny McBride) to varying success. Many genre fans want nothing to do with comedy legends getting into horror, though for Peele and Rock, there’s probably another reason people look down on their horror films. We’ve seen something similar the past few years with YouTubers getting into the horror game as well; why are horror fans so weird about who writes/directs horror films? But what many people don’t know is that one of found footage’s most powerful films was created by a truly incredible non-genre filmmaker. So, how exactly did The Bay come to be?
The Bay’s Found Footage Story and Plot Breakdown
Investigative reporter Donna Thompson (Kether Donohue) finds herself in the crosshairs of one of the 21st century’s most prominent stories. Denizens of Clairidge, Maryland, are falling ill to a mysterious disease that’s covering them in boils, lesions, and pustules. Told through a series of leaks, after the government desperately tried to wipe this reporting, Donna retells the harrowing story that killed nearly the entire town. But what exactly is behind these illnesses, and can they even be stopped?
How Barry Levinson Created The Bay
The Bay writer/director Barry Levinson is one of film’s heavy hitters. His directing (and in some respective cases writing) credits brought us some of the greatest films of all time, with Rain Man, Sleepers, Good Morning, Vietnam, and Man of the Year, to name a few. How did this Oscar-winning director find his way into genre filmmaking, and found footage at that? From what I can tell, Levinson was approached to make a documentary about the Chesapeake Bay and its ongoing pollution. Since this topic had already been covered in documentary form, Levinson decided to take a fictional and horror approach to this all-too-real problem. From there, The Bay was born.
Timely Environmental Horror and Real-World Commentary
Taking real issues in the world and adding a horror flair to them has been one of the best ways for filmmakers to disseminate issues and deliver hard-hitting commentary. Around this time, 2012, is when Vice was really becoming a voice online with some groundbreaking work. For Barry Levinson to decide to tell this story, about the real pollution in the Chesapeake Bay, in the found footage medium, was the best decision he could have made. Levinson’s decision brings an air of authenticity and exists almost as a call to action. It’s more or less a feeling of, “this is happening in a town near you.”
Why The Bay Is One of the Best Found Footage Horror Movies
What really makes The Bay work more than most other found footage films is Levinson’s experience in traditional filmmaking. I love this subgenre; it’s my favorite. But I know, as well as most found footage fans, that there is an overwhelming amount of trash. While the subgenre, now, merely exists as a conduit for aspiring filmmakers to tell a story on a shoestring budget, it’s lost its way. Have an idea for one scare? Throw 60 minutes of aimless meandering through the woods and give someone a Canon Vixia! You have yourself a found footage movie. And while I love and appreciate how many people try to make films in this subgenre, it’s become as polluted as the Chesapeake Bay.
The Bay is one of the few found footage films that uses its subgenre to its advantage, rather than as a budget constraint. Granted, Levinson is in a much better position to do that than most filmmakers. But the director’s understanding of traditional storytelling makes The Bay one of the most captivating films within the subgenre. While The Bay excels with its storytelling, it’s SFX department head Chris Bridges who brings the true terror to life.
Practical Effects and Body Horror That Just Work
From the isopod-filled fish to the gory, decimated citizens of Clairidge, The Bay is a truly disgusting film. Many found footage films find themselves blowing their budget on one, maybe two, stinger(s). The Bay, once it really gets going, constantly hits you with blood, viscera, and squirmy things. It uncomfortably wriggles under your skin until you just can’t take a second longer.
The Bay and the Decline of Found Footage Horror
To wrap this up, there is an interesting parallel to The Bay and the subgenre as a whole. Found footage, at this time, was ramping up to be a landfill of ideas; it was figuratively being polluted by chicken shit. The Bay stepped up to show audiences that new, exciting, and terrifying films could still exist within the subgenre. But that also means we shouldn’t sit idly by to be force-fed garbage. We can step up and say enough is enough. Don’t make justifications for bad found footage films (garbage) as it floods the subgenre (waterways). Because if there is enough bad found footage (garbage/chicken shit), then the subgenre will collapse (water will become polluted/we will all die).
Steven Spielberg’s Disclosure Day is a film so close to greatness, but one leashed by itself from attaining it. The first science fiction film from Spielberg in eight years has base elements which are truly fantastic. The mystery is compelling, and the performances can be emotionally resonant. And despite how simple and familiar the set pieces and genre tropes it revels in are, Disclosure Day has some of the most thrilling moments audiences will see in a film this year.
But what should be a knockout summer blockbuster becomes bloated. It’s a film that could easily be a perfect score but suffers from its approach. Considerable pacing and scripting issues dial back the appeal of its ten out of ten visuals and leave you thinking about what could have been one of the best Spielberg films of all time.
What Is Disclosure Day About?
As international tensions rise, the world reaches a tipping point. Nations prepare to go to war, and the conflict of nuclear powers threatens to send humanity back into the Stone Age. But an insurgent group hopes to avoid destruction by unlocking a secret chapter of human history and sharing it with the world: the story of humans and their first contact with aliens.
Up against the shadowy government contractor Wardex, a rogue group races to unveil the truth. Caught in the web of intrigue are a hacker named Daniel (Josh O’Connor) and a weather reporter named Margaret (Emily Blunt), whose proximity to the struggle and its origins becomes impossible to ignore. Hunted by Wardex director Scanlon (Colin Firth), the fate of the world hangs in the balance as the duo attempts to give the entire human race full disclosure.
A Balancing Act Between Tension and Wonderment
For the most part, Disclosure Day has Spielberg in rare form. The immediate mental leap that fires off is to try and drive home comparisons to Close Encounters, though that instinct detracts from the unique balancing act on display. The film is able to juggle between evoking a sense of wonderment and a sense of pure dread with just how it’s shot. Crossing the spectacle of psychic phenomena with the tension of a Cold War spy-thriller is something we haven’t seen from him in any one project. It’s a hybrid, and a fascinating blending of genres at that.
This balancing act is primarily driven by an absolutely packed and powerful ensemble cast. Emily Blunt plays Margaret with effortless odd and endearing charm as she gets thrown headfirst into the deep end. The quirks of her character evolve into a fully fleshed out persona that reminds you why Blunt has top billing. Josh O’Connor plays his part as the yin to Margaret’s yang beautifully as well; his sober terror as he finds himself on the run is a fun contrast that, when placed opposite of Blunt, renders great chemistry between the two as they’re magnetically drawn to each other in search of the truth.
Disclosure Day Gives Us One of the Best Sci Fi Villains
Colin Firth’s absolutely nefarious Noah Scanlon is one of the best villains in a science fiction film in a long time, especially during the movie’s most memorable confrontation against Daniel’s girlfriend Jane. His performance is about as finely tuned as it is frightening. And as far as Colman Domingo’s rebel leader Hugo goes, it’s clear why his pivotal dialog was the core of all the marketing material. There’s a steady calmness that could only come from an actor as seasoned as Domingo slipping into his role like a glove. He and Firth are highlights, even if they are delegated mostly to supporting roles. Together, the entire cast moves like clockwork.
Lack of Confidence, Thy Name Is Dialogue
But while the cast feels perfect for the roles they’re given, and they do great with what they can, the nature of so much dialog in Disclosure Day is repetitive and obvious. There’s a wild number of moments that would be truly golden if they weren’t shot down by characters stating not only their emotions but also the obvious things that are happening in front of them.
Some moments should fundamentally feel like characters are having a massive breakthrough or emotional catharsis, but more often than not, it feels more like the audience is having these emotional arcs explained to them. Thematically, the movie is supposed to be about this search for fundamental truths. Truths not just about our place in the universe and in the eyes of God, but about our place with each other. It’s that thematic richness it seeks that makes the bad lines feel like so much salt in the wound. There are moments where these intrinsic questions could be asked with dimension and depth, but instead they’re flattened out by how the characters speak to each other bluntly.
This is the aforementioned proximity to greatness; there’s a hypothetical cut of this film that has so much of this verbal bubble wrap sliced away which would be perfection. But just like on our Earth and the Earth of Disclosure Day, this is not a perfect world. It can only really be chalked up to a diffidence that plagues the writing: a lack of confidence in being able to communicate something subtly, and a simultaneous lack of confidence in the audience to receive that information.
Small Tears in a Sentimental Tapestry
As the film continues with this pattern, the small tears in this emotion driven tapestry become more noticeable. The CGI can be wonky at times. The score can feel leading rather than complementary. The blocking is far from inspired, especially given how many scenes there are of our characters surrounded by a crowd with bated breath; with this many bodies in motion, the way he places his actors and moves through them feels less thought out.
And most noticeable of all, the film’s hefty runtime is paced poorly, especially in its third act. Make no mistake: it’s a final reel that is visually and sonically gorgeous in where it goes. If cinematographer Janusz Kamiński was ever in a flow state, it is here and now with this film. It feels like there was an abundance of footage and no haste to actually edit out any of it. It feels like a director’s cut that just goes on too long, like many scenes in the film. This is especially apparent in a finale that should be awe-inspiring for how incredible it looks, but ultimately lingers too long and overstays its welcome.
It’s understandable that when working with the most influential voice in cinema history, one might be reticent to cut anything. But Disclosure Day’s lack of restraint with how it unfolds exacerbates many small issues that will leave some viewers with regret. Not because it’s irredeemable, or even a movie you won’t enjoy watching, but because it has so much to give and is so captivating in its cinematic vision. And because sadly, that vision is weighed down by the desire to be easily digestible and show all of its emotional tricks. It’s a desire that turns a borderline perfect film into simply another aesthetically pleasing one.
