Disclosure Day
Spielberg's movie about making a Spielberg movie.
I was initially going to let this Reddit-level dipshittery rot as a pithy Substack note but I have a Major Life Event happening at the moment and I can’t really interrogate my own shallow interpretations of art at the moment. The three people who read this can fist fight about it in person. EXCELSIOR!
There’s a popular theory that the film Inception is about making a movie. I find this interpretation…to be kind, let’s say generous. To be a little more pointed, I think it’s nonsensical, at least the way it’s laid out in the link I’ve provided. Unfortunately, the citation that the author provides to the inimitable C.H.U.D.com is broken so I can’t cite the original visionary who apparently pioneered this idea.
The gap between what Nolan thinks about his movies and what his fans think is vast. The furor over reading way too into Nolan movies has largely died down but this interpretation of Inception has stood the test of time.
Personally, I think it’s because Inception, you’ll be shocked to find out, doesn’t make a goddamn lick of sense. I really like Inception. But it’s a dumb fucking movie made brilliantly. Just like Tenet! And the need to pull themes from the most tenuous aspects of the film is strong. Inception is heist film. Heists, like films, require teams of specific people all working in concert. Things go wrong, people have to adapt. I think one could readily make the same dumb argument for Heat or Ocean’s Eleven. Except both of those films are really quite good, so a forced interpretation of them isn’t really required.
So I suppose all of this is to say that it’s not going to stop me from making the exact same claim about Disclosure Day: it’s a movie about making not just a movie, but a Spielberg movie.
**Obviously I will go into spoilers from here on out so go see the movie.**
Well then…am I also claiming Disclosure Day is not good enough to avoid a flimsy interpretation?
I guess so. I liked Disclosure Day. Fun time at the movies. But it doesn’t really touch vintage Spielberg nor even The Fabelmans.
The film is about a vast government conspiracy to cover up the existence of extraterrestrial life. It’s The X-Files boiled down to its essence but way less sexy. Daniel (Josh O’Connor) is on the run with Jane (Eve Hewson). They have reams of data and a dangerous metal dildo an alien device that they can’t touch. Wardex, a shady DoD company, is chasing them. Scanlon (Colin Firth), their CEO, has his own…device. And he touches it a lot. Daniel is being guided by Hugo (Colman Domingo), who is in an undisclosed location, seemingly building The Backrooms.
In the meantime, KCXE Kansas City weather reporter Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt) lives with her guitar-wielding boyfriend but she has bigger ambitions, like moving to Dallas or something (lol). She wants to be an on-air reporter instead of doing the “weather shimmy” every time they get hail. When a cardinal flies into her loft and makes eye contact with her well…things change for Margaret. She starts speaking all sorts of languages, she can seemingly read minds in an instant, culminating in her on-air breakdown where she speaks an alien language.
The film is, essentially, a chase movie. A movie about attention. A movie reckoning with a fractured world. It’s been talked about a lot that it’s one of Spielberg’s rare non-period films. Finally! The Great Man will tell us something about the present!
In fact, I kind of think, like The Fabelmans, Spielberg is telling us something about himself.
Yeah yeah, you could argue that filmmakers are constantly telling on themselves, exposing their psyches for all to sift through. And Spielberg is particularly prone to this and your mileage may vary on how successful he is at it.
I remember, long ago, in the Stone Age, listening to a podcast with TJ Miller of all people. Remember him? Comedian, brain aneurysm, steep falloff from the public eye circa 2019? Well, some recall that this guy was in fucking everything for a minute. From about 2010 to 2018, TJ Miller peddled his unique brand of comedy and hair styles in all sorts of movies. And why not? He was funny! Abrasive, but funny.
Well, in this interview he talks about working with Spielberg (two artists who you’d never expect to collab) on Ready Player One, a…poor film. Miller essentially said that Spielberg took an inspiring amount of joy in his work. Even when they worked hard on long days, Spielberg would often clap his hands together and shout to the whole crew “LET’S GO! WE’RE MAKING MOVIES!”
This is maybe apocryphal. But the word is that Spielberg rocks to work with and absolutely loves making movies.
It shouldn’t be much of a surprise then, that Disclosure Day is tinged throughout with Spielberg’s appreciation for the craft and, in my opinion, is an extended metaphor for the power of film.
To go back to Inception for a moment, while I acknowledge the aforementioned reading, I don’t really have a great deal of respect for it. It’s really just window dressing to the main events of the film, something fun to debate over a few beers. In college. While the act of creation is inherent to the film’s plot (who is Ariadne, really, but a production designer on an infinite scale?) I don’t think Inception is thematically about creation or, more importantly, the output of creation: the spectacle.
So then, what the fuck am I talking about? Let’s discuss some key characters:
Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth), the studio executive/producer
The way Scanlon is evil with his alien device is notable here. He’s a company man. He gave his minions access to the world’s deepest secret and they betrayed him because they believed it belongs to the people.
Stories of clashes with studio executives are rampant in Hollywood. I would imagine that before Spielberg was…well, Spielberg, clashes were not uncommon considering the scope and ambition of his work. Now I’m not saying that ALL studio execs as an entity torture the subjects of their creation nor abuse the goodwill of creators but let’s say conservatively about 95% do and have and will continue to do so. All of this is speculation. I’m not above positing my own flimsy, debate-it-over-beers interpretation.
So what is Scanlon to do? He uses his device to inhabit the body of Jane, Daniel’s girlfriend, to essentially wreak havoc on their goals. It struck me as a popular tactic by bad people in power to recruit an underling to be their singing bird. Jane’s character escapes judgement for this in that nice Spielbergian way because she is not in control of her body when she goes about her sabotage.
So what explains Scanlon’s turn at the end? We’ll get to it later…
Hugo (Colman Domingo), the director
This is actually the performance that clicked this dumb theory into place for me. I like Colman Domingo but I find he has sort of two modes: Melancholy Sincere Guy or Earnest Sincere Guy. In Disclosure Day, he is decidedly the latter.
Hugo spends most of his time away from the others, building what appears to be a set and we later find out is a replica of Margaret’s childhood home. However, he is always, always on his headset, guiding Daniel and Margaret in their goals and sending his crew out to rescue them in case they’re found.
Like Spielberg shouting WE’RE MAKING MOVIES above, Hugo is always keeping the entire enterprise on point. Reminding them of their purpose, not just in the minutia like go to Kansas City but also in the greater context of why this all matters.
It’s been said that directing is the hardest job in show business1. And I can’t imagine, because I write 700 words a week and I’m exhausted. But you do, quite literally, have to have a micro and macro view of a whole production at all times. And it’s probably a plus if people like working with you.
Hugo is Spielberg. At his most basic, he’s the commentator of the game. And best, he’s the conductor of an all-important orchestra. He not only has to guide a whole production, he also has to inspire people to follow his lead.
Daniel and Margaret (Josh O’Connor and Emily Blunt), the actors
One of these is more important than the other. If we’re thinking in actorly terms, Daniel is a work-a-day, normal actor. Won’t blow anyone off the screen but is reliable. Approaches the work logically and calmly, even when he has to work closely with Jane who is literally trying to stab him in the back.
Margaret is the key. I thought a lot about the fact that Spielberg worked with Daniel Day Lewis in Lincoln. Margaret has the ability to see so deep inside others that her empathy literally pains her. And yet, when it counts, she also becomes this chameleon-like thing that morphs into a symbol of another person’s deepest emotional core. She uses it to free herself from Scanlon, first when he sees his presumably dead wife and further to his lackeys as she appears as all sorts of important people from their lives.
Her character embodies the way a performance can capture emotion both specific and universal, while at the same time being interpreted personally by its beholder. And she has to go through shock and awe and hell and feelings to do it. She’s so “talented” but she has no idea why.
The ending, the spectacle
The end, the gang discloses something so monumental, so gargantuan that it captures the attention of the world and upends humanity’s understanding of their place in the universe. Considering that Spielberg has witnessed firsthand the power of art in changing the status quo, this struck me as both hopeful and melancholy.
Really the question at the heart of Disclosure Day is can we ever be captivated by something, as one people, ever again? Will there ever be another Star Wars or E.T. or American Pie presents: The Naked Mile? It’s a hopeful question but also melancholic because I think, and I believe the film thinks, that the answer is no. How enormous must a revelation be in order to capture our attention? How important must a work of art be to capture the love of so many people?
There’s something so pointed about how Margaret must return to a replica of her childhood home to relive why she is the way she is. Don’t take my word for it, Critical Darlings mentioned it directly:
This is coupled with the way Scanlon, in the end, just sits down and accepts that all his efforts have failed. He doesn’t stop the broadcast and I’d like to think it’s because he’s acknowledged the power inherent in the spectacle. The way it can move you like no other. That’s what explains his turn at the end: he’s re-accessed a dormant part of his emotional life.
Spielberg clearly believes in the power of film to transport you to your past or to invoke that feeling of childhood wonder. It’s so obvious that its filmic embodiment has got a shorthand: Spielberg face. I’ve always admired Spielberg for his ability to adapt to different genres. My favourite film of his is, after all, Saving Private Ryan, a movie so brutally violent that many find it hard to watch. But his ability to make true art out of massive spectacle never lets me down either. He epitomizes crowd pleasing and yet performs at such an absurdly high level it is, indeed, awe-inspiring.
In the end, Disclosure Day has everyone Spielberg face-ing all over the world as they bear witness to the revelation that aliens exist. That would upend society. I’m not sure if a movie can anymore and I don’t think Disclosure Day will. But it still tries. It at least wants to instill within you a sense of wonder, in a way that Spielberg can only do and also seemingly is alone in believing that it still has some power. Does it fail? Maybe in it’s loftier ambitions, but again, I liked it. It’s a film about a film and it closely mimics that specific feeling: a packed cinema and a group of strangers witnessing greatness in real time.
You don’t have to read this whole transcript, Mazin has said it countless times.