Steven Spielberg’s “Disclosure Day” is an earnest film, almost achingly so. It is grand and cinematic but most specifically hopeful about humanity’s capacity for good in the face of uncertainty, perhaps even more so than we deserve. Still, it’s hard to shake the unwavering optimism that Spielberg clearly fosters, a faith that millions of people have certainly witnessed firsthand upon watching any of his films. Wipe away the more sticky iconography of his filmography; the Indiana Jones theme music, the Universal Studios Jaws Ride (RIP), or even Elliot riding across the moon in the Amblin Logo, and what are we left with from 60 odd years of filmmaking? We have the wonder of a thousand faces upturned to see a spaceship descend over Devil’s Tower, Alan Grant in tears seeing a Brachiosaurus reach up for leaves from a tree a hundred feet tall, or a robot boy making a wish while trapped at the bottom of an ocean at the end of the world. That same hope, wide-eyed and eager, isn’t that what we love about the movies? Isn’t that what we all become when seated, with the projector rolling, all joined together in community to witness something we pray will move us, bring us comfort, or even catharsis? As the legendary film critic Roger Ebert once said, “For me, the movies are like a machine that generates empathy.” If Roger were alive today, I imagine he might have similar feelings about “Disclosure Day.”
“Disclosure Day” instantly throws audiences into an espionage thriller where the fate of the world’s collective reality hangs in the balance. Dr. Daniel Kellner (Josh O’Connor) has stolen proprietary material from a multi-national shadow corporation called Wardex and plans to, along with compatriots, release the information to the entire world. After an attempt to hold Kellner’s girlfriend Jane (Eve Hewson) fails, they go on the run, ever one step ahead of the Wardex CEO (Colin Firth), who will eagerly kill to keep these pilfered secrets from coming to light. That secret: extra-terrestrials have been visiting and crash landing on Earth for the past seventy years, and it’s all on tape. Not only has Wardex, which operates above the security level of even the President, happily mined their alien technology, but they have also covered up their entire existence while running cruel experiments and dissections upon those unfortunate creatures. These visitors, as we learn, value empathy above all else and see it as a sign of evolutionary superiority. Wardex took advantage of that instinct, their cruelty being justified by the belief that if humanity ever knew that there was more beyond our atmosphere, it would shake the foundations of the established world order, religion would be decimated at its foundations, and panic would eviscerate civilization like a virus. Or so they think. Meanwhile, a Kansas City Weather Person named Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt) wakes up one day to find that she can suddenly speak any language and somehow sense what is troubling any person she comes across. After unknowingly speaking an alien language during her weather segment, Margaret is herself thrust into the Wardex path of destruction. Something inside of her is saying she needs to find Dr. Kellner, a force that seems to be guiding her for reasons pious yet unknown. These two, the scientist and the news personality, share much more than they know and will ultimately be the key to either humanity’s descent into anarchy or their ascension to a higher plane of light.
Never has a film that was so unashamedly cornball and so focused on feelings featured this many car chases, train crashes, and shootouts. Spielberg’s love language has always been unbridled spectacle, and with “Disclosure Day,” his work is as visually mesmerizing as ever. Nobody turns a camera move into poetry quite like he does, as evidenced by his ability to mine tears from a simple crane shot. Now in the back half of his career, it’s clear that Spielberg is more than happy to focus his generational talent on his own eccentric fascinations; whether that be remaking “West Side Story” or dramatizing his own childhood in “The Fabelmans.” Nobody else could have, or would have, dared to make those movies, or made them so masterfully. “Disclosure Day” is a different creature, with Spielberg being the story’s originator and primary author. This allows us to praise the work of legendary screenwriter David Koepp (“Jurassic Park,” “Spider-Man,” “War of the Worlds”), who was tasked with taking a 60-page treatment typed on Spielberg’s iPad and spinning it into a cohesive movie; a tall order. As a story, “Disclosure Day” is a shaggy beast, sweeping in its scope and delicate in its sentimentality while purposefully side-stepping the hard and fast comforts of traditional Hollywood structure. With a lesser filmmaker, screenwriter, and even composer, the film would no doubt have been a slog, an understuffed mess of jargon and treacly solipsisms about how we should all just get along to save the world. Yet, through the words of Koepp, Spielberg’s intentions are laid out clearly and unashamedly; a protestation against the ills of cynicism that prays that we might heed the words of our better angels, even if those angels happen to come down in starships. “Disclosure Day” will leave some people cold; it’s certainly one of the more odd wide-release films of recent years, but allowing oneself to fall into its embrace is an enriching thing, a balm against the surety of pessimism. Nothing feels more right in this world than a Steven Spielberg movie scored by John Williams, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
“Disclosure Day” is the kind of movie that begs for a second viewing, partly because its rhythms are so purposefully obtuse. By the time the story reaches its zenith, when the “Day” in question comes into full focus, Spielberg side-steps bombast in favor of something far more intimate and somewhat upsetting. This is not the ending of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” or “E.T.,” films that crescendo into a phantasmagoria of John Williams horns playing over a collection of gape-mouthed characters staring awe-struck into the skies. No, this is something more honest and less cinematic; a zag in Spielberg’s storytelling instincts that must be celebrated, puzzled over, and revisited. There is a montage near the film’s end of characters we have never met before and have no association with, witnessing something that flips their entire existence on its head, which drove me to tears. In that moment, these people were seeing firsthand the impossible made real; with all pretense of propriety was set aside in favor of raw emotion: fear, dread, curiosity, and cold exultation. It felt like we would feel, it scratched an itch I didn’t know was there. It’s long been said that Spielberg’s greatest crutch as a storyteller was his inability to find the right, succinct ending. As if in response to his critics, there is an abruptness to the conclusion of “Disclosure Day”, which, of course, will not be spoiled here, that lands with a crushing, open-ended finality. This is not a story with easy answers or assurances that everything will work out in the end. For all his optimism, Spielberg is wise enough to understand that while he might present humanity with a path to finding our better selves, he cannot force us to begin the journey. What happens after the final hard to black of “Disclosure Day” has been lingering in the back of my mind since walking out of the theater. Not knowing, not sensing any real clear conclusion, feels discomforting, with Spielberg offering a dangling chad where I’ve always felt his sure hand. It would be foolish to consider this accidental, as the lingering malaise cast by the film’s ending is proof enough of its effectiveness and worthiness to be contended with. This is Spielberg pushing us out of the nest, forcing us to fly or die on our own, so that we might finally join those who watch over us in discovering that there is more to life when we live it together.
“Disclosure Day” is Spielberg operating at the highest, eccentric level we might expect from the most celebrated filmmaker of his generation. Popular artists often won’t allow themselves to be etherized before millions, to proclaim faith in the goodness of people without apology or protestation. We are lucky to still have him, along with Williams, Koepp, and all of his collaborators, instilling a cry for fairness and justice in each film frame and challenging audiences to seek out more than simply pure entertainment. The sky’s the limit if we are willing to reach for it, and the best in people is attainable if we are only humble enough to ask for it.
Listen.
You’ll be glad you did.
“Disclosure Day” is playing at Prytania Uptown, Prytania Theatres at Canal Place, and The Broad Theater.
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