●●○○○

I am disappointed to report that George Clooney’s latest foray into directing has proven a flop, to say the least. With a disjointed plot, and an unsatisfactory commentary on racism in late 1950s America, Suburbicon leaves much to be desired.

When we imagine 1950/60s American middle-class white suburbia, many things come to mind; a monotonous lifestyle, a white picket fence, a patriarchal family dynamic, juxtaposed with intense racism and classism. The first half of Suburbicon certainly captures this well. The film begins with a classic advertisement encouraging Americans far and wide to live in the peaceful, man-made paradise that is ‘Suburbicon’. It prides itself on diversity, introducing smiling families from Minnesota, New York and Texas, who have their new home to thank for their happiness. When a black family, the Myers, move into town, extreme intolerance boils to the surface as they are constantly berated and excluded from the community.

This was a promising plot to begin with, but the Myers family were reduced to a device to highlight the grotesque racism that characterised suburban society of the time. The family was boring, at least from the few snapshots we get of their life. It is evident their presence is there to act as an innocent contrast to the psychopathic white family that lives next door. While the wholesome Myers are being victimised, the Lodges, who are tangled up in dreadful crimes, attract little suspicion. Outside their picket fence, their lives seem just as perfect as those from the opening advertisement.

The bizarreness of the Lodges and the ever-increasing mystery that surrounds them grows tiring and unbelievable. The impressive cast did a relatively good job. Matt Damon and Julianne Moore carry the menacing duo, Gardiner and Margaret Lodge, well. However, they are granted superficial depth and we can delve only as far as their crimes permit us. The redeeming factor is the cinematography. The shots are all well framed and perfectly complement the mood of the scenes. The wide-angled view of Margaret in her kitchen making a poisonous sandwich fits so neatly into the stereotype that it makes what she is up to all the more sinister. Similarly, the aerial shot of Suburbicon, growing from one garden to capture the vast expanse of identical gardens and houses tactfully reveals the homogeneity of 1950s/60s American suburbia, bringing to mind Pete Seeger’s song “Little Boxes”.

Give Suburbicon a miss, it leaves a confusing sense of dread and regret of a wasted 1 hour and 45 minutes.