Movie Review: McKay’s decision to use an impending comet as his metaphor for climate change in his new film Don’t Look Up is incredibly effective.
WARNING: the following article contains spoilers for Adam McKay’s film Don’t Look Up.
Adam McKay’s 2021 satire Don’t Look Up, written in collaboration with left journalist and former Sanders 2020 campaign aide David Sirota, darkly lambasts the abilities of the US government, capitalism, and media institutions to adequately respond to global existential threats. Clearly an allegory for the looming menace of climate change, the film’s message seems to say, “if the fate of the planet is left up to the powers that be, then we might as well just turn off the TV and have dinner.”
Don’t Look Up stars Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence as two astronomers who make the terrifying discovery of a massive comet on a collision course with Earth, and follows their journey to try and convince the US and the world that this comet represents a fatal menace and that immediate, decisive action is needed to save the world.
Don’t Look Up is classified as a comedy, and while the film is fun to watch and offers many laughs, they are the kind that are borne from a deep seated discomfort of recognition. When Michigan State astronomers Dr. Randall Mindy (DiCaprio) and PhD candidate Kate Dibiasky (Lawrence) — along with the head of NASA’s Planetary Defense Coordination Office Dr. Teddy Oglethorpe (Rob Morgan) — travel to Washington DC to bring their apocalyptic news to the President of the United States Janie Orlean (played by Meryl Streep), Orlean and her son/Chief of Staff Jason (Jonah Hill) first blow them off for an entire day, preferring to deal with a media storm surrounding their Supreme Court nominee, and then when they finally give them an audience refuse to listen to the deadly reality of the situation and instead look for ways to downplay the news, (“Can we just call it a ‘potentially significant event?’”), or belittle the scientists’ urgency, (“You’re breathing weird, it’s making me uncomfortable.”) This careless response pushes the astronomers to go on a media tour to try to spread the word independently, but they quickly find that the media (represented by the TV talk show “The Daily Rip” with hosts Jack and Brie [Tyler Perry and Cate Blanchett]) is even less willing to listen to or take seriously the scientist’s warnings, citing the President’s false assurances and rising stocks as reasons not to worry.
McKay’s decision to use an impending comet as his metaphor for climate change is incredibly effective from a dramatic point of view. The shortened timeline of six months to impact gives a heightened sense of emergency and really throws into contrast the inane and useless responses from everybody with any sort of power to stop it. Though Dr. Mindy and Kate are quick to point out the small window that exists to be able to divert or destroy the comet, President Orlean initially decides to, “sit tight and assess.” When she finally decides it’s politically useful to try and destroy the comet, Peter Isherwell (Mark Rylance) — the CEO of tech company BASH, the third richest man on Earth, and a “Platinum Eagle level” donor to Orlean’s campaign — persuades her to call off the mission because the comet contains rare and valuable minerals that could be mined for his company’s profit.
Class Dynamics as Comedy
McKay uses comedy to deftly illustrate the class dynamics of society’s abilities to handle crises. First, we see how the ruling elites are inexorably tied up with capital. In much the same way that the real-life US government is a tool of capital, President Orlean’s administration is completely under the thumb of CEO Isherwell, stopping the deflection mission at his word and allowing him to head the second mission to break up and mine the comet.
Isherwell and his company BASH are introduced in the film with a keynote speech on BASH’s disturbingly invasive new “BASH LiiF” operating system which can detect what emotions you’re having and sends you memes and videos in response, poking fun at tech giants like Apple, Google, and Facebook. Then it is shown to have the greatest scientists and research capabilities of any institution, far beyond the capabilities of any country, university, or public establishment. Isherwell even has a private space shuttle (punting at the cosmic aspirations of Bezos, Musk, et al.,) with state-of-the-art cryogenic pods for deep space colonization, reserved for 2000 of the world’s most rich and powerful figures.
The scientists turn to the media due to the false sense of solidarity they feel with the likeable parasocial figures Jack and Brie, but McKay shows that this is an utterly bankrupt façade, using a sexual affair between Brie and Dr. Mindy as a metaphor for the trust that working class people can put in the media. In a telling post-coital moment, Brie reveals that she is from old money, has three master’s degrees, slept with two former presidents, speaks four languages and owns two Monets — basically, she is cut from the same cloth as Orlean and Isherwell. Later, Jack proclaims that the rising stock prices of BASH indicate that the comet is no threat and that he bought as many shares as he could, promoting the wellbeing of profit over the protection of humanity.
Hope, Apathy, Despair.
Dr. Mindy, Kate Dibiasky, and Dr. Oglethorpe represent the scientific community, but also the working class, and their journeys are illustrative of the beliefs of many people in the American working class. Dr. Mindy seems to represent the middle class and older generation; people who believe, or at least wish to believe, in the institutions of the state. He defends Orlean, then expresses hope in Isherwell’s plan, and puts much of his initial trust in the media as illustrated by his affair with Brie.
Kate on the other hand represents the younger generations — she sees right through the posturing and narcissism of President Orlean, of Jack and Brie, and of Isherwell, often being driven to public outbursts of rage at their ineptitude. She becomes what one might call a “doomer”: she ostensibly quits her studies and scientific endeavors in the face of impending destruction and submits to indifference. She gets a job at a liquor store where she ignores shoplifters and watches the news, and there meets a group of skaters who share her apathy and derision for society, including Yule (Timothée Chalamet), whose jaded attitude belies a surprising religious fervor.
Dr. Teddy Oglethorpe is the only character who tries to find a solution in mass politics, he is seen speaking at a protest before being taken away by authorities, but the film does not give this path enough profile to have any credence. Any attempt at a mass revolt devolves into mindless looting, and attempts at protests are painted as futile and ineffectual gesturing by a measly few in the face of failing institutions and widespread social malaise.
The film also deals with US society’s tendency to call any piece of disturbing news “politics” and to deride anyone crying for the kind of drastic changes that are necessary “political.” When Kate tries to go back to her parents’ home they won’t let her in because they think her beliefs are “political and divisive,” and they “believe in the jobs the comet will create.” This is in direct contrast to the actual political decisions of President Orlean to first obscure the truth about the comet and then to share it only at the most politically expedient moment, to distract from a controversial Supreme Court nominee.
While Orlean’s administration clearly parodies the Trump era in many ways, from the overt sexual misbehavior of the President to the pseudo-incestuous comments made by Jason Orlean towards his mom which mimic the way Trump talked about Ivanka, the film does not let either politcal party off of the proverbial hook. Beyond never specifying which party she belongs to, there is also a moment where the leader of the opposition party promises an inquiry into Orlean’s Supreme Court nominee’s lurid affair rather than focusing on the threat of the comet, showing both sides of the US political machine coin to be equally ineffective and more concerned with image and respectability politics. Especially in light of Biden’s ongoing failures to act on climate change, the film implies that the inability to act decisively is not just a failure of a certain party, but is baked into the structure of the US government.
What the world of Don’t Look Up is missing — and, indeed, what the real world is sorely lacking — is a rational, science-based, working class response to global threats. The utter lack of ability to respond appropriately to the situation is the heart of both the comedy and drama in Don’t Look Up, and ultimately the best efforts of the scientists prove fruitless in the face of such towering apathy. The only recourse the protagonists ultimately have is to make dinner, be with family, and appreciate the things they had while the world ends, but what is unsaid speaks louder. What could have been done? Kate’s final words to her friends are, “I’m grateful we tried,” and try they did — they tried everything that could be done within the strictures of the powers that be, and it was not enough. While McKay does not offer any positive vision of how the problem could have been successfully dealt with, the money- and power-hungry character of the failed system shows exactly what not to do. It may seem like the film offers a pessimistic take on the power of the working class and movement building politics, but of course, a rational, thorough, and effective response to a global existential threat would not make for such an entertaining film.
Don’t Look Up is available to watch on Netflix.