Directed by Lorcan Finnegan
Written by Garret Shanley
Starring Imogen Poots and Jesse Eisenberg
Running time: 1 hour and 37 minutes
MPAA rating: R for language and some sexuality/nudity

by Ian Hrabe

Suburbia gets a bad rap. Speaking from experience, I spent my late teens and most of my twenties railing against the idea of suburban living. That’s a normal and natural reaction to anyone who grew up in the ‘burbs, but once you have kids and your living situation is entirely predicated on school districts, all of that suburban agita goes out the window. You start thinking outside of yourself and, in a sense, you cease to exist as your own person and instead become an extension of your children. Their safety, education and overall well being is paramount to your hopes, dreams and desires. This is a trope you see all the time, and it almost always has a dark twist to it. Blue Velvet, Little Children, Happiness, A Serious Man, The ‘Burbs, the list goes on and on because the only way to make suburbia interesting is by exposing its dark underbelly and the general ennui that haunts these places. 

Lorcan Finnegan’s Vivarium is a new addition to the “dark suburbia” genre and, while it isn’t always satisfying, it is deeply haunted and has a strong point-of-view. Imogen Poots and Jesse Eisenberg--who revisit their excellent chemistry from The Art of Self Defense--play Gemma and Tom, a couple looking to take their relationship to the next level by buying a home together. They stumble into the storefront for a planned suburban community called Yonder. There, they encounter a realtor named Martin (Jonathan Aris) who seems a little bit off and exudes some serious Crispin Glover vibes. They follow Martin out to Yonder where all of the houses are identical in every, way right down to the sea foam green paint. It’s an endless sea of cookie cutter houses, and a metaphor that would be too easy if the film’s air of what-the-hell-is-going-on wasn’t so strong. Martin shows them the house--a perfectly average suburban dwelling--and, as they are exploring the backyard, abandons them. When they try to leave the subdivision, they find themselves driving endlessly in circles until their car runs out of gas. Night has fallen, and they will try to find a way out tomorrow.

When a box containing a live baby boy shows up in front of their house with a note reading “RAISE THE CHILD AND BE RELEASED,” things go from mysterious to fully surreal. The warm and affectionate Gemma and Tom grow more distant as their suburban vivarium breaks them down to the point where they barely feel like people anymore. They are merely caretakers for this deeply strange child that mimics them, screams when it doesn’t get what it wants and grows up at an alarming rate. As the characters become more and more dead inside, the movie deadens the viewer as well and that is either a feature of Vivarium or a bug, depending on your tastes. I personally found it to be a bit of a slog that could have been rectified had the movie found an extra gear in the third act. Instead, we just watch these characters spiral into the acceptance of their lives in this suburban cage with its tasteless food and bizarre child who has grown into a bizarre man. The metaphor never really grows beyond its fun but one-note premise, and while Poots and Eisenberg are great, they just don’t have much to do. Things get progressively darker and, though there are some new interesting elements sprinkled in, there’s never really any explanation of what is going on. Not that an explanation is required, but this movie would have benefited from a satisfying twist to make the general nightmarishness worth it and it doesn’t have one. Despite this narrative dissatisfaction, Lorcan Finnegan displays a true director’s vision that makes Vivarium worth a look.  

Available on demand Friday, March 27.