Disclosure Day: Spielberg fritters away his best idea
What would happen if the existence of extraterrestrial life were proven tomorrow? Disclosure Day poses this question, but doesn’t give us an answer.
Warning: this is an opinion piece containing spoilers for Disclosure Day. Go and see the film in the cinema before you read on.
What would happen if humanity got wind of irrefutable evidence that it wasn’t alone in the universe? Not sometime in the future, not just in theory – but today, right now, with documents on the table and witnesses willing to talk about it?
Steven Spielberg asked this question. He carefully built it up, gave it substance, added two strong ideological camps, put Janusz Kaminski behind the camera and «the legend himself» John Williams on the conductor’s podium (who, at 94 may well be there for the last time). And then …
Then he dropped the question altogether.
Just like that.
The secret recipe for Appenzeller cheese
I was under the impression that Spielberg had understood his own premise and knew exactly what was at stake.
At the start of the film, he depicts a world on the brink of collapse – looting, political conflict and the prospect of World War III breaking out in a matter of days. In this world, he presents two camps, both of which could be right. The powers that be say the disclosure of alien life could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, forcing civilisation to collapse once and for all. Meanwhile, the other side say they’re being infantilised – patronised by an elite who’ve unilaterally decided what humanity can and can’t handle.
These camps aren’t mere cardboard cut-outs. They represent real, uncomfortable positions. For a while, Spielberg even manages to make me believe that Disclosure Day is a philosophical alien thriller. But it isn’t. About an hour in, I realise what Disclosure Day really is: a well-staged game of cat and mouse whose MacGuffin just happens to be proof of aliens.
Source: Universal Pictures
Why am I saying this? Because the alien secret could just as easily be replaced by stolen government documents. Or the secret recipe for Appenzeller cheese. Or simply something that powerful people want to keep under wraps. If it were, it wouldn’t change a thing about the plot. Or the chase. Or the stereotypically «good» freedom fighters and «evil» non-governmental agency.
And yet, from a narrative perspective, there’s so much to explore. How would the disclosure affect someone who’d spent their entire life believing in a divine power? What would happen to religions that view humans as the pinnacle of creation if it turned out the universe didn’t share that view? What would happen to governments that derive their legitimacy from national identity if it suddenly became clear that, on a cosmic scale, that identity is pretty inconsequential?
Spielberg touches on these questions. At least, that’s the most generous way of looking at it. But he never lingers on them long enough to risk giving an answer. Instead, his film focuses far too much on orchestrating a game of cat and mouse. There’s really not any more to it than that.
However, that’s not even the worst of what Spielberg has done here.
Bigelow did it better
Let’s break this down. It’s bad enough that the philosophy behind one of the greatest questions in human history is quickly swept under the rug to make way for a bog-standard chase sequence. The fact that neither side evolves – no one has any doubts, and no one’s even slightly swayed by the other side’s arguments – doesn’t make things any better.
But the most baffling part is yet to come. Spielberg built all of the film promo around one moment: Disclosure Day, the one day when the truth finally comes out. And then, the very moment that day finally arrives …
Black screen. Credits. It’s like a theatre tech lowering the curtain just as the on-stage action reaches its height.
Is this a joke?
Source: Universal Pictures
I’m familiar with this trick. Kathryn Bigelow used it in A House of Dynamite. And it annoyed me then too. However, at least Bigelow laid the groundwork. She told the story of the same nuclear nightmare (19 minutes until a nuclear warhead strikes Chicago) three times from three different perspectives, pushing her characters to the brink, only to leave us not knowing whether the strike has been prevented or not.
It was an audacious move, but one she earned the right to make.
Disclosure Day keeps you entertained for two and a half hours, only to suddenly give you the House of Dynamite treatment. But how exactly are you supposed to fill the gap left by the ambiguous ending? What does the film give you to decide whether humanity can handle the truth or be shattered by it?
Being entertained and being made to think aren’t the same thing, Mr Spielberg.
This isn’t the Spielberg we know
The maestro can do so much better than this. Take the 1993 version of Jurassic Park, for example. It was a dinosaur film that never claimed to be anything more than that. And yet, it offered a more substantial exploration of its premise than Disclosure Day. Including the question of whether human beings should play God just because they can.
As a kid, I thought this was a boring scene. Today, I know it’s the most important scene in the film.
Then there’s Minority Report, another Spielberg title – an action film about a police department that arrests people before they commit a crime. Not only did Spielberg make the film gripping, but he also created one of the most astute explorations of determinism, free will and government control that Hollywood has ever seen.
Neither Jurassic Park nor Minority Report made a big show of its ambitions. But they delivered on them anyway. Disclosure Day, on the other hand, doesn’t deliver on anything. Though technically flawless, it lacks substance. And to be honest, that’s what hurts me the most.
What do you think? Does the film serve its purpose? Or did Disclosure Day end up disappointing you? Let me know in the comments.
I write about technology as if it were cinema, and about films as if they were real life. Between bits and blockbusters, I’m after stories that move people, not just generate clicks. And yes – sometimes I listen to film scores louder than I probably should.
This is a subjective opinion of the editorial team. It doesn't necessarily reflect the position of the company.
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