“There is just no end to surprise. I feel sad for us and the queer part we play in our own disasters. But out of some persistent sense of large-scale ruin, we keep inventing hope. And this is where we wait…together”

Through the hallowed halls of 20th-century literature, there are few writers more influential or important to the written word than Don DeLillo, who stands alongside Thomas Pynchon and Phillip Roth are arguably the three most important writers to emerge at a very particular moment in American artistry, each one a distinct writer that somehow managed to help pioneer the movement that we know fondly know as postmodernism, each in their own way, looking at the concept of incredulity towards metanarratives in their unique authorial voices that have allowed their work to remain timeless, half a century later. DeLillo is the one that is often the least discussed, primarily because his books are arguably the thorniest and most off-kilter, so they don’t lend themselves to many conversations outside of certain circles that find value in his work. However, he’s also one of the most creative social critics of his generation, each one of his novels and short stories being memorable for how they capture the American zeitgeist at various points in the nation’s history. Therefore, it is truly a surprise that it took over half a century for the film industry to catch up with DeLillo, after years of trying and failing to adapt his work. David Cronenberg was the first, and now a decade later, Noah Baumbach has continued this legacy by tackling one of the esteemed writer’s most celebrated works, the astonishing White Noise, which is often considered (alongside Underworld and The Angel Esmeralda) as the peak of DeLillo’s creativity. Telling the story of a neurotic university professor and his family as they make their way through a series of challenges that begin to threaten their lives in very literal ways, it’s a poignant and prescient parable that is delivered in the most subversive way imaginable, filled to the brim with dark humour and a sense of absurdity that takes the reader by surprise. It’s hardly shocking that Baumbach was the director who was daring enough to take on the material, clearly attracted to its representation of middle-class, midlife malaise in comparison with what appears to be a global catastrophe, which leads to a wickedly funny and quite perverse examination of society, drawing back to some of the director’s own curiosities that have followed him throughout his career, leading to a perfect match that easily becomes one of the year’s very best films.

White Noise is the first instance of Baumbach adapting an existing work – having a career consisting solely of original stories is admirable, but it seems like an appropriate challenge for a director of such stature to take a chance on previously published material, to see if they could work as efficiently when it comes to not only tackling ideas that are not their own, but also inserting their own unique characteristics into the production, since a pure facsimile of the content is not only nearly impossible, it’s also dreadfully boring. Not too many filmmakers are fearless enough to have this challenge come on behalf of DeLillo, whose novels are not often cited as unadaptable without reason – many have tried to mount productions and either failed or abandoned the idea outright. It’s peculiar that the only two directors to successfully work with one of his novels are some of the best talents of their generation, and Baumbach had the added challenge of working with one of his most acclaimed and popular novels, rather than one that is slightly more under-the-radar, which would have been more logical, if not a safer decision overall. However, Baumbach has never been one to play by the rules, and White Noise is an absolute triumph – there is not a single moment in this film that feels like it doesn’t belong, and while there are some notable changes made to help the fluidity and logic of the story (although nothing too major is elided entirely, but rather reworked to fit into both the timeframe and general intentions Baumbach had for the story), it is a relatively faithful interpretation of the writer’s masterful examination of American culture and the human condition as a whole, retaining the same darkly comical sense of humour, contrasted with a deep sense of melancholy for a bygone era that becomes almost definitive of the entire story, at least in the aspects that the director seems to be most intent on emphasizing. From its first moments, we can immediately sense that this novel was in good hands, with Baumbach seeming to understand every intricate detail of not only the plot (which in itself can be quite convoluted if you don’t pay attention), but the spirit of DeLillo’s work, which is dense and challenging, but also undeniably rewarding, all of which is filtered into every frame of this film, which dares to different in a very creative manner.

Over the past few months, between the final days of its production and its gradual introduction to viewers from across the globe, White Noise has been reclassified under every conceivable genre, ranging from dark comedy to horror, to romantic melodrama and social satire centred on a major world catastrophe. Categorization for such a film is nearly impossible, since it occupies far too many proverbial boxes to ever commit to any of them entirely – it bounces between genre and artistic movement with such fervency, it can be difficult to even keep track, which is ultimately part of the charm. The story does use the concept of a disaster story (in this case “The Airborne Toxic Event”, one of the most delightfully sinister and foreboding concepts in the history of literature) to anchor the story – there is a narrative prior to this event as well as after it, but it is the centrepiece of the story, and the concept through which every thematic thread is woven in the pursuit to get to the heart of DeLillo’s fascinating account of mass hysteria and individuality, two entirely different themes that become symbiotic as the story progresses. Baumbach makes use of countless wild ideas, and blends them together seamlessly – and this in itself is quite a remarkable achievement, considering he has never been known to direct films that are quite this ambitious, usually finding his niche within smaller, more intimate stories that may be emotionally complex, but remain relatively simple in execution. For all those allegations that he is merely a mimic of Woody Allen and his dialogue-heavy comedies, Baumbach proves the detractors wrong, removing all doubt about his ability to craft something truly extraordinary that is also outside of his wheelhouse. For a director who is known for his more controlled, sedate films, White Noise being two hours of unhinged chaos is a welcome change of pace, and a good opportunity for the director to experiment with both style and substance, condensing a series of bizarre moments in this riveting bundle of pure pandemonium, defined by both its precision and complexity, as well as its sardonic sense of humour that constantly hints at the darker meaning lurking beneath the surface.

Despite being set in the early 1980s, White Noise is one of the most timely films of the year, extending far beyond a peculiar period piece that goes back in time to a previous era in the hopes of representing how different life was in the past. Instead, its a film aiming to represent how little the world has changed over the years – DeLillo’s thesis statement across all of his work, which is shared by Baumbach in his adaptation of this novel, is that the only aspects of culture that truly change are fashion and music, with everything else remaining entirely the same. In the instance of the text, DeLillo is looking back at previous generations (being set in the same year in which it was written), and instead of updating it to match the contemporary intentions of the novel, Baumbach instead chooses to keep it in this period, adding a new level of detail to the production that is both intriguing and very creative. White Noise is a story about a life so ordinary and free of complications, it becomes almost dreadful to endure, with the cyclical nature of existence becoming a burden on these characters – and then without warning, their carefully-constructed lives are thrown out of balance as a result of a one-in-a-million accident that yields fatal results to a huge portion of the population. The use of the Airborne Toxic Event as the centrepiece of the film is very smart, since it not only always the story to have a clear source of tension (even when the narrative shifts away from these events and becomes something entirely different), but also facilitates for a series of complex discussions that are rooted in some combination of existential philosophy, political history and socio-cultural conventions, which are filtered through the deceptively hilarious lens of this film, which is both insightful about these issues, and deeply cynical in a way that almost betrays the genuinely more hopeful perspective normally taken by Baumbach, who may veer into melancholia at times, but usually has a solid resolution. White Noise is a film that quite simply questions what it means to be human, and to believe – there is a monologue (delivered by the exceptional Barbara Sukowa) in which she expresses disdain at the idea of blind faith, and instead emphasizes a more humanistic perspective on existence – and considering she is playing a Catholic nun, the irony is certainly intentional, one of the many distinctly creative quirks that populate this film, which functions as a fascinating and darkly comical account of existence, a lamentation on the state of the world told in three acts, each one distinct and very creative in how it draws on some very complex commentary.

As is common with the author’s work, White Noise is a story that draws on a wide range of characters, but has a few central figures to guide the narrative. In the case of this story, they are Jack Gladney and his wife Babette – he is a well-regarded history professor who has pioneered the field of Hitler Studies (despite secretly acknowledging his own flaws when it comes to knowledge of the German culture outside of their notorious former leader), while she is a happy-go-lucky exercise instructor who slowly grows more cynical about life and death as a result of some recent activities that begin to stir concert within her family, only heightening the sense of paranoia that is already quite saturated within their unassuming homes. The roles are played by Adam Driver (reuniting with Baumbach for the fifth time) and Greta Gerwig, who was given some of her breakthrough roles under the director’s guidance, leading to a long-term personal and professional companionship that has yielded terrific work over the years. They are quite effective in the roles – Gerwig is slightly miscast, and she doesn’t quite come across as convincing in terms of playing a frequently divorced, middle-aged mother of four, even if she is a very competent actor. She hits a few strong notes throughout the film, but she otherwise doesn’t register in the same way that a slightly more seasoned actor may have, had they been given the role instead. Driver, however, continues his ascent to become one of the greatest actors of his generation – even in a role as abstract as J.A.K. “Jack” Gladney, he manages to be extremely surprising – it’s a challenging role that he makes seem so effortlessly easy as a result of his immense talent and penchant for playing these offbeat, eccentric characters. He has developed into a chameleon of an actor, and disappears into the role in a way that makes this some of his very best work. It’s simultaneously a performance that is peculiar but also deeply empathetic, and we watch this man slowly descend into madness, purely as a result of being part of a world that is gradually falling apart in front of his eyes. The supporting cast includes terrific actors like Don Cheadle, Raffey Cassidy, the aforementioned Barbara Sukowa (who may have a small role, but plays a pivotal part in the climax of the story) and Jodie Turner-Smith, and a range of smaller performers that make up the ensemble, which is rich and compelling, as well as undeniably peculiar, which perfectly matches the tone of the film, and helps elevate it to exciting levels that may not have been anticipated based on a cursory glance at the material.

Ultimately, despite its deliberately anarchic worldview and labyrinthine plot, White Noise is not a film that aims to be confusing just for the sake of stirring a reaction or just contributing to a steadily growing canon of strange works. Much like one of the author’s colleagues once famously quipped when writing an introduction for George Orwell’s similarly dystopian masterpiece Nineteen Eighty-Four (which is partially an inspiration behind this story in many ways), “why should things be easy to understand?” – this not only extends to this particular text, but the entire movement in which DeLillo is working, and which Baumbach is trying to replicate. Truly great socially-aware storytelling understands that a good concept is not enough, there has to be a meaning behind it – and if you can clearly establish that meaning, you are free to layer as much complexity on top of it as one desires, since the core of the story will always remain there, especially if it is well-told, and is made by someone with clear intentions on what they’re trying to say. White Noise is not a film that ever wants to make sense – it thrives on its ability to be truly absurd, one of the most deranged works we’ve received from a major director since David Lynch and Alejandro Jodorowsky were making films – but it has a strong idea of where it wants to take these peculiar ideas. Those entering into this film with the expectation that we are going to get answers are likely going to be surprised – not only does Baumbach refuse to give the answers, we even begin to doubt whether he knows them himself, since it almost feels as if we are working through the source material alongside the director, who is doing his best to make sense of DeLillo’s dense but fascinating words, which ultimately lead to a very intriguing resolution. The grand epiphany we reach is the same realization that Driver’s character seems to express in the quote at the start of our discussion – in the most simple terms imaginable, life is absurd. It is filled with cruelty, suffering and hypocrisy – it evokes the introduction to Annie Hall, where Alvy Singer says that life “is full of loneliness and misery and suffering and unhappiness, and it’s all over much too quickly” (a version of the same joke actually exists in this film, proving its relevance), and that we simply cannot make sense of any of it – much like Pynchon said that art shouldn’t be easy to understand, the same can be said about life as a whole, and perhaps the best way to approach it is simply to surrender to its inherent absurdities, where an entire supermarket can descend into an elaborate dance number, and it will all make perfect sense, because ultimately, nothing ever does.

White Noise is truly a unique film – it may seem relatively conventional at the start, even if we are accounting for its peculiarities, which many may think just aligns it with a recent wave of bizarre films that centre on vaguely surreal subjects. However, the more time we spend with it, the further we realize that this is much more than meets the eye. There are secrets lurking throughout the film that are difficult to spot at first – this is not a film that can only be watched once, since there are details that take multiple viewings to notice – and it can be difficult to get a grasp on the general themes at exist at the heart of the film. However, once we realize where the story is heading, it becomes a tremendous experience, a revelatory and complex character study, an examination of what it is like to exist in the middle of a global catastrophe, whether that be a very literal disaster, or one that is more psychological, the latter of which the film argues is far more perilous, since it is an invisible ailment that is responsible for far more deaths than any physical condition. The film toggles genre exceptionally well – where else can you find a work that looks at a potentially life-threatening disaster with such wit, and examines a marriage slowly disintegrating based purely on the fact that both partners were neurotic to the point of emotional and psychological paralysis, and still make it so effortlessly hilarious? Baumbach is a tremendous filmmaker, and White Noise is an atypical work, a self-imposed challenge that could have been fumbled spectacularly badly, but actually managed to be extraordinary in ways many of us may not have expected. This may allow for the possibility of him taking on more challenging, unconventional work in the future, but even if he returns to the neat niche that he carved for himself, this will always be one of his most fascinating achievements, an experimental voyage into the more absurd recesses of the human condition, where his distinct wit intermingles with the savage brilliance of Don DeLillo, who has maintained his status as one of the greatest writers in the English language for a reason. Complex, riveting and deeply moving in some parts, White Noise is absolutely exceptional, and one of the most well-constructed films of the year, a mercilessly funny and brutally dark provocation of both form and content, provoking thought and inciting laughter in an effort to find order in the chaos. Whether it achieved this or not is a matter of interpretation, and just another reason to celebrate the absolute brilliance that is this masterful work of pure, unhinged audacity.