LORCAN FINNEGAN
VIVARIUM

The World is a Vampire, sent to drain
Secret destroyers hold you up to the flames
And what do I get for my pain?
Betrayed desires and a piece of the game.

Billy Corgan's alienating lyrics repeat like a mantra in the latest work of former debutant Lorcan Finnegan, Vivarium; a socio-scientific thriller on a packaged and vacuum-sealed humanity, selected in the 19th edition of the Cannes Festival, and soon passed into oblivion, probably not understood in its complexity, in its social critique, enough to position itself, ideally, as an antagonist to the Western conversion of the acclaimed Parasite.
Returning to the lyrics of Bullet with Butterfly Wings; a constant loop in Finnegan's shots, Gemma and Tom, aspiring lovers, are realizing they are going to live together and make an appointment at the Yonder real estate agency, which offers townhouses in a residential suburb.

The theme of the Yonder suburban village is fundamental, where beyond the hidden fantasy content, intentionally concealed/uncertain to be a subject of reflection and a starting point for subjective interpretative propulsion; strong is the social critique against the numerous cathedrals of non-places, bourgeois residences, and peninsulas resulting from an aridly calculated and perpetuated standardization behind the backs of innocent consumers of our world; Finnegan is visually skillful in presenting alienating images rich in solitude, similar to many works of Guillaume Lachapelle; distorted visions of a society no longer dominated by man and only partially alleviated by the use of pastel colors and a fake reassuring blue sky sprinkled with perfectly equidistant Magritte-like clouds.

Up to this point, aside from the obvious references to Suburbicon, everything is fairly reassuring until a creepy real estate agent, Martin, directly imported from Lost Highways and its atmospheres, enters the scene, asking the two young lovers to jointly visit the Yonder complex and practically opens the dance for a plunge into the inferno.

At the beginning of the film; probably the mother scene, or Mother, considering the numerous references of this work to Lynch's cinema, in the form and character of some characters, and Aronofsky, in the complexity and sovereignty of the content. Outside the kindergarten where Gemma teaches, 2 dead chicks are found; a child asks why they had to die - It's nature - Gemma replies; because that's how things work among insects, among birds. And also among people, as will soon be discovered by continuing to watch Vivarium, or even among beings that have little human but of whom as little is known about them...
With the return of the Darwinian principle and bastardly current that all, men, animals, reptiles, organisms, bacteria, viruses want to have their say on this planet. The parasite organism maneuvers the host of the same species, or a similar species, so that the latter raises its young as their own. In the end, the Mother - the teacher -, having achieved the goal, is pushed away, often after having suffered significant damage at various levels.
After visiting one of the villas, all dramatically identical, number 9, the real estate agent Martin dissolves into nothing, leaving Gemma and Tom alone, who will try to return home in vain as all roads and exit paths, all lead to residence number 9.

Exhausted, the two decide to spend the night in the residence after having a welcome toast and tasting 2 flavorless strawberries; the next morning at the entrance of the house Gemma and Tom receive a package containing a newborn, with a note inside recommending raising the child if they want to regain their freedom....

The fulfillment of the obligation, to provide education to the child and to nurture him during his growth, within the sadly prefab Yonder home, eating tasteless and strictly frozen or vacuum-packed foods, would coincide with the possibility of liberation, except for the final reconsideration of the parasite, the inability to complete the mission or even the accomplished and positive realization of the project, would render the presence of the fake parent at this point not only useless but how shall we say it... cumbersome.

Skillfully, but also obsequiously, as his older mentor Aronofsky has accustomed us to in this case, Finnegan does not outline a precise and univocal path for his screenplay, playing as it is often done with the cat and mouse game with the inert viewer, destabilized on its own by a plot with twisted implications that from the start offered no escape routes for its main characters. Obviously, it is all left to the free interpretation of the viewer, with barely hidden clues that can only suggest an alien experiment, governmental or a mix of both on the human race.
Strong, however, is the social critique, the discontent, probably personal of the director, for everything that is the result of years of submission to a conformist and ruthless mindset, which is responsible for the propagation of infinite non-places and passive social and human behaviors, temples of the new cult of frenzy and mass consumption, of real goods but also of connectivity, entire real areas but why not also virtual where individuals cross paths without really relating to each other.

And beware of the assiduous attendances of these non-places and to know how to recognize them, even if some may appear very cool at first glance!
(And then what do I get for my pain .....betrayed desires and a piece of the Game...)