Digger Review
Bombastic personality, endless greed, surreptitious political connections: attributes ascribed to any of the megalomaniac billionaires that pull the strings of global influence in the present day. But what happens if we allow these “leaders” to run too unchecked for too long? Alejandro G. Iñárritu, master of the satirical black comedy, makes a long awaited return to English cinema after more than a decade to show us a world that seems frighteningly closer than it ought to be.
Oil baron Digger Rockwell (a portly, prosthetic-adorned Tom Cruise), has a penchant for monopolistic control of the world’s power reserves and, by extension, the world itself. His general disdain for the laws of nature extends to the ungodly preservation of his disturbingly geriatric cat of 30 years. Such disregard leads him afoul of the awesome power of an inert chunk of ice when his digging operations make it not so inert. The impending natural disaster not only jeopardises the immediate future of a large portion of the European continent, but threatens the global way of life indefinitely. Evidently, a problem of such catastrophic proportions can only be solved by the only man with an ego to match: Digger Rockwell.
Whispers of initial impressions of this film teased a polarising film with big themes, big performances, and a big plot twist. The execution of Digger is unlikely to come under question. Exquisite cinematography, immaculate set design and masterful direction - all set to an unnerving and offbeat score - make for potent filmmaking. A barnstorming performance from Cruise is supported by memorable pinchhitting from John Goodman, Sandra Hüller, Jesse Plemons and Riz Ahmed. But execution can only take an audience so far in the cinema.
The beauty of satire is that it gives accessibility to complicated and often controversial topics. That accessibility is born out of humour and at least some modicum of relatability to its characters. Iñárritu falters on both fronts here. The opening set piece plops us into a torrent of dialogue between endless characters that raises countless questions like “what is going on?”, “why is everyone yelling all the time?” and “why don’t they just move his shovel out of the way?”.
The frenetic pace is broken abruptly with the “big reveal” of the film’s true machinations. Although this gives us some of the most grounded moments of commentary, it frustratingly adds little originality to the format. Indeed the most experimental aspect of Iñárritu’s big-budget big-hitter seems to be the lack of humour in a black comedy satire. Sure, the spectacle of Cruise’s larger-than-life performance is often entertaining, but it fails to sustain the enjoyability of the film against vomit and poop gags.
Such humour is sorely missed when outweighed by the depressing futility of environmental and cultural despair Digger portrays. By no means do we need to feel good about the apparent inevitability of our current predicament, but one does not have to reach far into the memory to recall strikingly similar commentary on the terrible consequences of narrative manipulation at the hands of the elite in favour of profits. Adam McKay’s Don’t Look Up showed us an equally bleak future through genuine humour, and landed a mere 5 years ago to both critical and commercial success. McKay’s vision was original thematically and in execution. Despite substantial change in the world since, Iñárritu offers little further insight other than “if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry”, and there was scant laughter heard in the showing we attended.
It is not hard to see Digger garnering awards attention, if not at least for some of the production categories than likely some recognition for Cruise’s high energy performance. But when this falls at the cost of an enjoyable cinematic experience, we are left with the disappointment of what should have been, at least on paper, another Birdman.
