Fighting existential angst in your supermarket aisle: a review of White Noise

White Noise

Directed by Noah Baumbach

Screenplay by Noah Baumbach

Based on White Noise

by Don DeLillo

Produced by Noah Baumbach, David Heyman & Uri Singer

Characters

Adam Driver as Prof. Jack Gladney

Greta Gerwig as Babette Gladney

Don Cheadle as Prof. Murray Siskind

Raffey Cassidy as Denise

Sam Nivola as Heinrich

May Nivola as Steffie

Jodie Turner-Smith as Winnie Richards

André Benjamin as Elliot Lasher

Sam Gold as Alfonse

Carlos Jacott as Grappa

Lars Eidinger as Mr. Gray

Bill Camp as Man with TV

Barbara Sukowa as Sister Hermann Marie

Francis Jue as Dr. Lu

Henry and Dean Moore as Wilder

Gideon Glick and Chloe Fineman as Simuvac Technicians

Kenneth Lonergan as Dr. Hookstratten

Cinematography Lol Crawley

Edited by Matthew Hannam

Music by Danny Elfman

Production companies NBGG Pictures, Heyday Films & A24

Distributed by Netflix

White Noise is best described as a horrifying absurdist comedy. If you read Joseph Heller and Kurt Vonnegut and like them, this is for you. If Repo Man didn’t confuse and annoy you, and Donnie Darko didn’t give you nightmares about crashing aircraft, then you’ll enjoy White Noise.

Even though the story is told in a fairly linear fashion, it’s just disjointed enough to keep you off balance. We start with a upper middle class family in a Pennsylvania ‘burb. He’s a professor at “College on the Hill” and the nation’s leading authority on Hitler Studies. She’s a self-help coach, effervescent and endlessly optimistic. The children bicker as children do, only the bickering is an odd admixture of the plebian and the profound. The conversations evolve in an oddly self-referential way, similar to the conversations in Heller’s “Something Happened.”

We get a look at Prof. Gladney’s professional life when a fellow professor specializing in Elvis studies begs Gladney to lend his considerable gravitas by gracing a lecture on Elvis’ life. Gladney does so, and the two combine to give a marvelous dissertation on how Hitler and Elvis were in many ways twins.

Then, several miles away, a fuel tanker truck collides with a train towing hundreds of tankers of toxic chemicals. The movie, which has already had an apparently unconnected pastiche on the glory and fun of Hollywood road accidents, outdoes itself in lovingly depicting the wreckage and huge explosion that ensues. The characters, several miles away, quibble over whether the result is a plume, a billowing cloud, or a toxic event. The argument is seemingly settled when they are ordered to evacuate immediately. The chaos and confusion of trying an emergency evacuation of a small city is all too convincing and real. During the evacuation, the professor is exposed to the toxins in a really chilling sequence. You’ll find yourself looking over your shoulder next time you fill up.

The second half of the movie is post-evacuation, and we learn the wife has been the subject of an illegal medical experiment to treat psychological problems—in her case, a pathological fear of death. The tone shifts, to use my earlier parallels, from Repo Man to Donnie Darko.

It’s a bit uneven in places, although at least some of that is deliberate. You’re meant to be kept off balance as you watch this. But it’s both horrifying and hilarious, and the acting, Adam Driver in particular, is first rate.

Now on Netflix.