Introduction

In the annals of psychological thrillers, few films manage to intertwine the grotesque with the ordinary as skillfully as Vivarium (2019). Directed by Lorcan Finnegan, this science fiction piece explores the unsettling dynamics of suburban life through an otherworldly lens. With its bleak narrative and existential undertones, it’s a film that leaves an indelible mark on the viewer’s psyche long after the credits roll.

The Plot: A Surreal Nightmare

Vivarium follows Gemma (Imogen Poots) and Tom (Jesse Eisenberg), a young couple on a seemingly innocent search for their first home. What starts as a routine encounter with a real estate agent soon descends into a nightmare as they are lured into an identical suburban neighborhood, Yonder, where every house looks the same, the sky is unnaturally still, and the clouds never move. When the agent vanishes, the couple finds themselves trapped in an endless loop, continuously returning to House #9, unable to escape.

Then, in a macabre twist, a box arrives containing a baby with a note: ‘Raise the child and be released.’ The child, however, is no ordinary infant; it grows rapidly, mimics their voices, and fixates on strange patterns on the television. As they struggle to make sense of their predicament, their bond begins to fray, and the house transforms from a potential home to a suffocating prison. Vivarium is a chilling meditation on isolation, the fragility of the human psyche, and the existential horror of being trapped in a loop of repetitiveness and decay.

Thematic Depth: The Horror of Suburbia

The genius of Vivarium lies in its layered storytelling. On the surface, it’s a science fiction thriller, but at its heart, the film is a sharp commentary on the perils of modern domesticity. Finnegan cleverly uses the concept of cuckoo bird brood parasitism as an allegory for the invasive, draining nature of societal expectations regarding homeownership and family life. The couple’s entrapment in the uniform neighborhood and their subsequent degradation mirror the entrapment many feel within the monotonous rhythms of suburban living.

Gemma and Tom’s growing detachment from each other and their increasingly distorted view of reality reflect the psychological toll such an environment can exact on individuals. The alien child is a grotesque manifestation of this societal pressure: a parasite that thrives at the expense of its host. Their futile attempts to escape and the growing sense of paranoia and despair perfectly encapsulate the feeling of being lost in an unending cycle of repetition.

Visual and Cinematic Style

One of the most striking elements of Vivarium is its visual style. The production design creates an uncanny, dreamlike atmosphere, where the mundanity of suburban life is warped into something far more sinister. The identical houses, the painted sky, and the absence of natural movement in the environment evoke a sense of claustrophobia and hopelessness. The artificial nature of the world around them creates a sharp contrast with the organic, growing horror at the film’s core.

Finnegan and cinematographer Piers McGrail use this sterile environment to great effect, employing tight framing and muted color palettes to convey the feeling of entrapment. The camera often lingers on the characters’ expressions, allowing the audience to experience their mounting sense of dread. This slow burn of tension, building as the couple unravels, is one of the film’s most powerful tools.

Performances: Imogen Poots and Jesse Eisenberg

The performances of Imogen Poots and Jesse Eisenberg are exceptional in bringing the film’s psychological horror to life. Poots delivers a nuanced portrayal of Gemma, balancing vulnerability and strength as her character’s grip on reality slips away. Eisenberg, known for his more neurotic roles, is perfect as Tom, the increasingly unhinged counterpart who desperately tries to find an escape, even as his understanding of reality begins to fracture.

Their chemistry is central to the film’s emotional weight. As the tension between them grows, their performances become more intense and desperate, making their eventual breakdowns all the more poignant. The silent horror they face is mirrored in their growing inability to communicate effectively, highlighting the isolation that permeates their situation.

Conclusion: A Haunting Reflection on the Modern Condition

Vivarium is not merely a psychological thriller; it is a haunting reflection on modern society’s obsession with the American Dream. The film explores the dehumanizing aspects of suburban life, the pressure to conform, and the disillusionment that often follows. It combines elements of science fiction with psychological horror in a way that makes it both thought-provoking and deeply unsettling.

Finnegan’s film ultimately leaves us with more questions than answers, but that is part of its brilliance. Like the trapped couple at the center of the story, we too are left to reflect on the nature of our own existence, our desires, and the systems that trap us. Vivarium is a slow-burn masterpiece that will linger in your mind long after the credits roll.