Bugonia largely deals with the nature of reality and how the explosion of the information age has given rise to fragmented realities. With the deepening chasms between warring ideologies and increasing polarisation and fanaticism, everybody seems to have found a cozy bubble for themselves, filled with echoes of their choosing. In such a climate, what is the role of truth? And how does it change depending on the reality you inhabit? Can truth ever be objective? And if so, what if there is some truth in madness?

Director: Yorgos Lanthimos

Cast: Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, Alicia Silverstone

Bugonia begins with a mad plan. Conspiracy theorist Teddy Gatz (Jesse Plemons) plans to abduct the CEO of a pharmaceutical company, Michelle Fuller (Emma Stone). He believes she is an alien in disguise sent to destroy Earth by inciting environmental collapse through the greedy acts of her multibillion-dollar company. Teddy, with all his heart, believes he is out to save the world from alien invaders like herself. He claims to have poured hours of research into it (by reading articles online) and has even enlisted the help of his (intellectually disabled) cousin, Don. The film never grabs the low-hanging fruit of making Teddy and Don the butt of jokes. The enormous absurdities of Teddy’s beliefs and their grand plan to stop the alien invasion are inherently ridiculous anyway.

Michelle rightfully diagnoses her captor as being in an “echo chamber,” but her hyper-regimented lifestyle, fake corporate charm, and sociopathic tendencies reveal she might be living in her own echo chamber as well. Exhibiting the most obedient, compliant self while restrained, Michelle immediately flips and shouts into Teddy’s face, “You are a loser and I’m the winner, and that’s just the way the world is,” the moment she gets the upper hand. Bugonia hints at an interesting war of different ideologies, of contrasting realities. It shows extreme ideological possession of conspiracy theories when Teddy tries his hand at everything between alt-right movements and extreme leftist ideas before figuring out that aliens are living in disguise as wealthy, powerful humans. Through Teddy, we see how lofty conspiracy theories are formed and how they find devoted believers. And about how these people are ready to warp the entire nature of reality to make sense of their absurd conspiracies. Maybe if you are hungry for an identity that comforts you, it doesn’t matter how crazy the mask is, as long as it fits right.

The film treats its characters and their beliefs with utmost sincerity, without taking any sides. And that leads to some of the most intense, affecting performances. Jesse Plemons is remarkable as Teddy Gatz, and he seems to reinvent his character every time new information is revealed about him, every time the film takes a sharp emotional turn and shows him in a new light. As he frantically pedals the bicycle with sweat and blood all over him, seething with anger, frustration, and betrayal, laser-focused on intent to kill, we strangely feel empathy for the character. And it was not demanded by the script at that scene, but you feel it anyway, by the sheer intensity of Plemons’ performance alone. The only downside of Jesse Plemons’ work in the film is how it manages to outshine the (almost) equally powerful performance by Emma Stone. Another standout work is by composer Jerskin Fendrix. The film is laid out in an expansive and boldly unconventional musical landscape. The loud, classical, and bombastic soundtrack matches the grand absurdities being played out on screen. It is both awe-inducing and terrifying. Silence is employed at the right intervals, but what is punctuated is done so with unignorable conviction.

Yorgos Lanthimos takes a daring turn towards the end of the film, which tests the limit of absurdism it travels on until then. It reminds you of the 2012 indie film, Safety Not Guaranteed. Both these films have a grounded look at quirky paranoid conspiracy-loving characters with tall claims about reality. And the twist is that they may not be as crazy after all. The twist fits more organically and less predictably in Safety Not Guaranteed. In Bugonia, however, an interesting take on reality bubbles, paranoia, and ideological possession now becomes a simplistic, predictable, and stale commentary on the failure of humanity. Suddenly, the lofty themes crumble into a one-dimensional lesson about humanity’s lost connection with its planet. The only lost connection we feel by then is between us and the film, as we walk away with the memory of a well-crafted yet strangely distant experience.