Every couple of years, a film comes along that is not only torn apart by critics and general audiences but also bombs terribly at the box office. Yet, as the years go by, these films often garner newfound appreciation and recognition that only comes with time. Think of films such as Starship Troopers, Fight Club, Jennifer’s Body, Speed Racer, Eyes Wide Shut, Blade Runner, and Showgirls. Recently, this logic has been applied to Damien Chazelle’s Babylon. And I believe we have a new film to add to this long list: Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s geopolitical, billionaire, climate-change satire, Digger.
The most powerful man in the world, Rockwell Digger (Tom Cruise, Top Gun), embarks on a frantic mission to prove he is humanity’s savior before the disaster he’s unleashed destroys the world.
Satire is one of the hardest genres to pull off in any narrative medium. A storyteller has to find the perfect balance between making fun of a particular subject while also trusting the audience to understand the message without having it spelled out for them. Some filmmakers have pulled this off masterfully with films such as Tropic Thunder, Dr. Strangelove, and Blazing Saddles. Others, however, have fallen spectacularly flat, as seen in films like Epic Movie, Holmes & Watson, and Don’t Look Up. Iñárritu, being the auteur that he is, decides to throw the rulebook on how to create a cinematic satire out the window. It is a bold choice, one that will undoubtedly divide audiences.
A key element of satire is being funny and hysterical. Digger is neither particularly funny nor hysterical. However, that almost feels like the point. The film seems fully aware of how unfunny it is, because Digger is less a traditional comedy and more an incredibly angry satire. Its commentary is about as subtle as Digger smacking you in the face with his shovel, as the film bluntly spells out its messages about billionaires, climate change, environmental activism, the complicated world of geopolitics, society’s complicity, and how we use art to cope with our increasingly fucked-up world. Yet, it is Iñárritu’s decision to break seemingly every rule of satire that ultimately makes Digger so captivating.
Rockwell Digger, played perfectly by Tom Cruise, who proves that he is still more than capable of delivering a great acting performance, is not a particularly good man. He is a charismatic narcissist obsessed with control and money, willing to do whatever it takes to retain his power. However, when one of his incredibly expensive oil rigs explodes off the coast of Greenland, causing a massive iceberg, four times the size of Washington, D.C., to break loose and make its way toward Europe, resulting in catastrophic destruction, Digger finds himself in a situation he cannot control. It is a situation he caused through his own greed. A situation he was warned about for years but chose to ignore because he wanted to make a quick buck.
So what does he do? He tries to control the narrative surrounding the disaster. Does he lay the blame on the grossly incompetent U.S. government, channeled perfectly by an unhinged John Goodman, who seems to be having the time of his life, for giving him permission to build the rig? Does he cause an internet blackout to bury the situation and keep it out of the public eye? Does he blame the Russians and the Chinese? Or does he own up to what happened and try to present himself as the world’s savior? Digger, the egotistical maniac that he is, opts for the latter. He takes responsibility for the catastrophe and attempts to position himself as the savior of the Earth.
In a 10-minute, one-take monologue featuring some of the best work we’ve seen from Cruise since Collateral, Digger delivers his message to the world. He tells them that he is guilty of everything they accuse him of. That he is a narcissistic, egotistical maniac who would sell his own children if it meant making a quick buck, even at the expense of their future and the environment. That the world has every right to hate him. But Digger says something they never expected. He calls his critics a bunch of flaming hypocrites. And deep down, they all know he’s right.
One element that many filmmakers avoid when making satire is directly attacking the audience. Iñárritu throws that common advice out the window with Digger, as he deliberately turns the film’s criticism toward us. Digger argues that despite our pleas for a cleaner environment, we still demand the luxuries and conveniences that contribute to its destruction: two-day shipping, mobile phones, high-speed internet, heating and air conditioning, TikTok, AI, medical equipment, and so much more.
He even takes aim at the elites who publicly preach about how much they care about the environment while continuing to fly around in private jets and sail on luxurious yachts. Iñárritu isn’t simply criticizing billionaires for destroying the environment; he is directly criticizing our own complicity in allowing it to happen. We condemn the people at the top while continuing to enjoy the conveniences their systems provide us. Ultimately, Digger argues that we are willing to tolerate environmental destruction because we don’t want to be uncomfortable.
And underneath all of that blunt commentary lies something far more subtle: Iñárritu is satirizing satire itself. He questions what purpose satire serves in society. Is it simply a way to control the narrative surrounding a particular topic? Is it a way of making fun of humanity’s shared stupidity? Or is satire simply humanity’s way of coping with our increasingly fucked-up world? Who knows? Iñárritu doesn’t provide an answer, instead leaving it up to the audience to make that determination for themselves.
Even if you found the commentary and comedy a bit too on-the-nose, there is no denying that Iñárritu went into God mode while making this film. Every single frame is dripping with cinematic artistry. The production design is immaculate, while the cinematography perfectly matches the film’s incredibly bleak tone. The sound design is equally immersive, making you feel every drop of sweat as it drips down the actors’ faces. And the ensemble perfectly matches the film’s over-the-top yet deeply bleak tone, bringing these eccentric characters to life with the kind of commitment this material demands.
Overall, it is a shame that Digger is bombing so badly at the box office. While the film probably never needed a budget north of $150 million, its failure is still a tragedy, not necessarily because Digger is a perfect film, but because it represents the kind of ambitious, completely unhinged swing that we rarely see from major studios anymore. Iñárritu was given an absurd amount of money and creative freedom and decided to make a bizarre, angry, visually stunning satire about billionaires, climate change, political incompetence, human hypocrisy, and even the very purpose of satire itself. You may hate what Digger has to say, you may find its commentary far too blunt, or you may think the film is complete insanity. But at least it is trying something. Hollywood desperately needs more films willing to take these kinds of massive, unpredictable swings, films that aren’t confined to the indie world or designed to appeal to everyone. Maybe Digger will eventually become one of those films that audiences look back on years later and realize they weren’t ready for it. And if that happens, I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest as Digger is going to age like fine wine.
My Rating: A
Digger is now in theatres nationwide.
Leave a Reply