Noah Baumbach
Rumore Bianco

One can never get used to death. The last three years are proof of that. We have all been pierced by the most universal fear there is. But what would death be without fear? If there were a pill that could eliminate it?

"White Noise," based on the eponymous 1985 book by Don DeLillo, is a film directed by Noah Baumbach, released in select theaters on December 7 and available on Netflix from December 30. It focuses on a middle-class family from the Midwest. At the center of the story is a university professor, Jack Gladney, the foremost American expert on the figure of Hitler, played by Adam Driver, and his wife, Babette Gladney, a posture fitness instructor who takes a aforementioned, highly suspicious pill not available on the market, played by Greta Gerwig. The two of them drag along their family consisting of four children, three of whom are from previous marriages.

Death and its fear, experienced in our society, set the rhythm of the film, where a crucial factor is a train accident that unleashes a toxic cloud. From then on, the already perceptible family frenzy at the beginning of the film evolves into a general confusion on the edge of grotesque, among conspiracy hypotheses and an entire town fleeing in hysteria, following flimsy reports from the administration, almost misinformation. This last aspect is precisely one of the themes addressed, and the family patriarch repeats it several times: "the family is the cradle of misinformation." Here, I cannot help but see a parallel with the pandemic situation we experienced in recent years, where it seemed everyone had different information to find refuge and cope. The citizens do the same, follow the ever-changing information to save their lives because just a single exposure of 10 seconds to the toxic cloud would be enough to die, but of a death that neither knows when nor in how much time it will occur.

Running away from the fear of death would be a great thing. Imagine living without this burden, without this white noise that underlines our lives. Like living in a large supermarket where every shelf is abundantly stocked and colorful, and there seems to be no limit to what you can buy. Instead, life is uncertain, and in this film, it's the flip side; we try to survive as we can, relying on love, family, science, drugs, or religion, on nuns pretending to believe because, deep down, believing is a human need to reach final salvation, and maybe more than one person needs it.

The film contains multiple themes, some tackled head-on, others merely touched upon, and it has an atypical '80s vibe different from the revivals that convey the serenity of times gone and buried. This one, however, could easily be set in our present days, and the essence wouldn't change because human emotions haven't changed, and we all face the same battles, albeit with ever different means. Helping in this is a gloomy yet not dark atmosphere and the music by Danny Elfman, which emphasizes that white noise in the background that permeates the entire film.