This is really more of a counter-review of this take by Lindsey Bahr. Movie reviews aren’t really my shtick, but I have some strong opinions about this one.

Claiming this film leaves audiences scratching their heads is to fundamentally misunderstand its purpose. This is not a confusing or incoherent experience. Instead, it has an unmistakable message and a sharp understanding of today’s world, both apparently overlooked by the original reviewer. Rather than inducing a need for solitary reflection, it operates like a bright, honest mirror held up to society. It challenges viewers to face uncomfortable truths, rather than retreat from them.

The idea that the writing “doesn’t get much more coherent” after its opening scene demonstrates a failure to grasp the director’s core vision. It is far from confusing; it is a well-formulated, if unsettling, portrait of contemporary life. The “aggravated ramblings” at the start are not random noise, but the difficult beginning of a breakdown in society. This work is not about getting away from things, but about what cannot be avoided. It is “anti-escapist” precisely because it refuses to treat the viewer’s world as distinct from the one on-screen.

One of its greatest strengths lies in its open depiction of the age of misinformation, the pandemic, and the social unrest that followed. To call it a “silo of provocations” that builds up without purpose is to ignore the carefully woven story. Its genius lies in showing how quickly personal worries and community tensions can create a never-ending cycle of problems. The “insanity” is not by chance. It’s the logical, though awful, result of a world where truth is personal and groups adhere only to their own side.

The characters, far from being simple stereotypes, are nuanced reflections of how people respond to crisis. Joe, the quiet sheriff drawn into a chaotic political situation, becomes a lens through which audiences witness reason slowly disappear. His eagerness to go against the mayor, initially for personal motives, is quickly subsumed by larger societal currents, illustrating how easily personal complaints can be used as weapons in a divided world.

The women’s extreme behavior is not merely present to “push fragile men to the brink.” They are key to a larger point: that in a highly connected, deeply divided world, everyone can descend into irrationality. Louise, who seems sidelined at first, then is pulled into the orbit of an “internet guru,” does not reveal a flaw in how her character is written. Instead, her narrative is a stark, upsetting example of how easily even sensible people can be pulled into cults and conspiracy theories. It confronts viewers with the disturbing reality of what happens when the rules that hold society together break down.

The claim that it offers “so little wisdom or insight beyond a vision of hopelessness” is perhaps the most profound misunderstanding of all. While certainly dark, the so-called “hopelessness” is not surrender, but a strong warning. What is seen on-screen is a prediction, a mirror showing where public understanding might be headed. The “grammatical errors of the truthers” are not merely funny moments, but small, sharp criticisms of the intellectual decline that often accompanies the spread of false information.

There is no doubt this is the kind of film that will age well, not because critics are “head-in-the-sand”, but because its accurate understanding of society breaking apart and the tempting power of groups will only become more important. Its meaning is unmistakable, a powerful and uncomfortable truth for those prepared to confront it. To call it “too late and too soon” overlooks the fundamental premise: the chaos it portrays is not limited to one specific time. It’s an ongoing, developing problem, and the work exposes its bleak core. It is certainly today’s answer to 1970s warning cinema. Eddington is a work of deep social commentary that demands, and deserves, to be understood on its own clear terms.