Bugonia (2025)

To peer into the mind of Yorgos Lanthimos must be an extraordinary experience – and considering he has steadily risen in estimation over the past decade, going from niche offshoot of the already peculiar Greek Weird Wave, to one of the most respected auteurs and someone whose name immediately implies a certain kind of experience, I’d argue we’ve already started the process of understanding him as an artist. He’s working more regularly, and his third film in the same number of years offers us yet another opportunity to witness his ingenuity firsthand. This comes in the form of Bugonia, in which Lantimos adapts Save the Green Planet, a well-liked South Korean film that is slightly more obscure outside of its home country. Much like the previous film, it follows a young man and his dimwitted cousin as they attempt something quite ambitious: the kidnapping of the CEO of a local pharmaceutical company that the young man staunchly believe is a malicious alien that is responsible for not only putting his mother into a catatonic state, but also negatively impacting the entire world, likely aiming to bring an end to humanity as we know it. What ensues is a tense battle of wits between the different parties as they attempt to assert dominance, eventually becoming quite a bleak and harrowing character study on power, and a film very much within Lanthimos’ wheelhouse in terms of both subject matter and execution. One of his best films in years (although considering the only genuine example of a film not being as promising in practice as it was in theory was Kinds of Kindness, which was still an exceptionally fun and conceptual film, that’s nto saying much), and one that is almost entirely defined by his willingness to push his own boundaries as a filmmaker in the hopes of consolidating a new kind of cinematic language, Bugonia is a fascinating experiment from a director who sees possibilities to unsettle and terrify in some of the most unexpected places, creating something far more enthralling than any of us may have anticipated, even those who believe that we have gotten a firm grasp on the director and his disquieting but adorable form of lunacy.

The process of beginning a conversation on the nature of Lanthimos’ work, or even just the themes that govern his films, is challenging – he doesn’t make films that are easy to describe, let alone condense into a single coherent string of thoughts. However, it is in this conflict that we find Bugonia to be so profoundly fascinating, since it isn’t a difficult film to follow, and is surprisingly one of his more accessible, straightforward works. This isn’t only because he’s basing it on an existing work, but also a result of his clear fascination with certain ideas, which are too strong for him to allow them to become unwieldy or frustrating, which is a common criticism of his work. The core theme of this film is the tug-of-war between the working class and the elite who exploit them, viewing those who exist on the margins of society as nothing more than cheap labour, easily manipulated and even used as test subjects for their vanity projects in many instances, under the belief that no one will miss them when they are gone, making them nothing more than expendable. In the current socio-political and economic climate, the implications of this story are not negligible – the people are revolting against the elite, who seem to be teetering on the edge of collapse. Using this film as an entry-point into a discussion on humanity’s tendency to challenge the status quo until we get what we want is a fascinating way to examine these themes, and while Lanthimos has not been this political in the past, he does certainly spend enough time developing these ideas to make it unmistakably his own, a fascinating approach that feels so much richer and evocative than we could have ever imagined based on a cursory glance. It’s best viewed without any preconceived notions or knowledge of the plot, since the underlying themes are certainly strong enough to sustain the weight of a film that is daring to be different, despite some of its more challenging qualities that feel so much more enthralling and intricately woven than we may have expected, even with someone like Lanthimos at the helm.

Bugonia is the second instance of Lanthimos making a film based on an existing text, and the first that serves as a remake of a previous film. Unlike Poor Things, which began its life as a novel, there was a clear precedent on which the director had to build, especially since the screenplay (written by Will Tracy, who is quietly making quite a name for himself as a scribe of cutting-edge, bleakly comedic satires) follows the original quite closely. Not someone who has ever seemed to be particularly enamoured with the idea of remakes, it did pose an intriguing opportunity for Lanthimos to challenge the status quo in ways that are not all that conventional. He puts his own spin on the material, to the point where calling this a remake is true, but it comes with an asterisk, almost as if Lanthimos is taking the original work and defining it through his own bespoke lens, a fascinating approach that allows him to draw from what he clearly sees as a strong film, but while not being completely tied down to those ideas. Conceptually, this is a very strong film, and it touches on themes that are likely to resonate, even if we may not find that to be entirely comforting – we know for a fact that society is divided into a class system, a ladder that becomes increasingly difficult to climb the lower one stands, to the point where it takes an act of radicalism to actually bring about change. Lanthimos has to walk a very narrow conceptual tightrope here, especially since there are aspects of Bugonia that reflect current events, particularly the disconnect between the public and the people who govern society. Its important to note that Bugonia does not intend to be a glorification of terrorism or a manifesto in favour of violence, but rather a bleak satire in which we witness the destruction of humanity by our own hands – under this film’s perspective, we are all equally to blame for the road we are heading down, sharing the burden of seeing a beautiful world destroyed by our own hands – and there comes a moment in this film where we realise what it is truly aiming to convey, a horrifying and hilarious moment in which Lanthimos turns the mirror on society and forces us to look at what we’ve created.

Over time, the opportunity to work with Lanthimos has become so coveted that many actors consider it a rite of passage – to be able to not only handle the director’s unique style, but fit entirely into his world, is proof that an actor has truly made it in the industry, since it’s by no means an easy feat. Bugonia features a few previous collaborators – Emma Stone, who has become Lanthimos’ muse and the source of so much of his artistic inspiration. As usual, she’s given an unconventional, deeply challenging role – in this case, its a chic CEO who believes herself to be the future of technology, someone who rises above the challenges that come with being in a male-dominated field by pure tenacity – until she becomes victim to a deranged man who is also living in his own delusional fantasy, her being the target of his latest obsession. Stone once again approaches this role at full throttle, refusing to reduce the part to just a one-dimensional villain, and in the process makes it clear that she is undeniably one of our most exciting actors working today, solely because she constantly manages to surprise us, regardless of the role. Similarly, Jesse Plemons (who some may argue gave a career-best performance under Lanthimos’ direction in Kinds of Kindness) is a riot as the deranged lunatic that acts as the catalyst for some of the more disconcerting moments peppered throughout the film. Plemons, much like Stone, has no reluctance in truly embracing the madness and despair that define this film, creating a character who is as terrifying as he is outrageously funny. Supporting parts from Aidan Delbis (who is surprisingly strong for a debut performance) and Stavros Halkias only give the film further layers, allowing it to become a far more daring and provocative exercise, solely through their commitment to the material. It’s not Lanthimos’ biggest cast, but it feels most well-suited to the material, everyone doing exceptionally strong work that challenges and defines in many different ways.

As well-acted as it may be (and certainly, the two leads are giving career-best performances), Bugonia is a film that is as much about the characters as it is the world that surrounds them. While it is conceptually quite straightforward, this is not an excuse for Lanthimos to do the same with the creative aspects of the film. He once again collaborates with the rogue’s gallery of creative people who constitute the crews of his films – Robbie Ryan returns for his fourth collaboration as cinematographer, crafting some gorgeous and unsettling images, which are tightly edited by Yorgos Mavropsaridis (who has been the genius behind every one of Lanthimos’ works to date), and supported by some stunning production design that creates an unsettling contrast between the grime and deterioration of the working class, and the excess of the elite who become their targets. It also features yet another delightfully deranged score by Jerskin Fendrix, who may not lean as heavily into the madness that defined Poor Things, but still creates a very particular atmosphere. Lanthimos’ films are always creative marvels, and there are many cases where he seems to be creating images and sounds that have simply never been seen before on film – he joins the likes of Luis Buñuel and Peter Greenaway as filmmakers whose satires are not only exceptionally well-written and complex in terms of their themes, but artistically so profound and unforgettable, their very existence is a marvel. It does have a much more bleak, unsettling atmosphere than the majority of Lanthimos’ previous work, but its in this quality that we find the director taking some fascinating liberties, crafting a daring and provocative dark comedy that draws us in through its unique, daring premise that never seems capable of being anything other than wholeheartedly compelling, particularly because of all of the work that went into its creation, and how Lanthimos can create such a nightmarish version of reality. 

The term “bugonia” is derived from an Ancient Greek belief in the harnessing of bees from the dead carcass of cattle, which led to fascinating conversations around regeneration and the emergence of life from decay and death. It takes some time for us to connect this meaning with the story that sits at the heart of this film, but this is all part of the experience that comes when watching Bugonia, a film in which Lanthimos truly does challenge the artistic status quo through taking some wild, unconventional swings that may not make sense at first, but gradually become more obvious as the film progresses and we begin to understand what the director is trying to convey. It does veer quite close to the original film in terms of its story, so it can’t be considered entirely original in terms of concept – but herein lies the brilliance, since having a clear structure allows Lanthimos to focus on the execution, taking an already wild film and redefining it through his own deranged perspective. He’s a fantastic filmmaker whose eye for visuals is just as strong as his penchant for the absurd, and every frame of Bugonia features these qualities in abundance, being as unsettling as it is outrageously funny and deeply compelling, never abating in its willingness to challenge and confuse whenever possible. It’s not a film that we can take for granted, but it does require some patience from the viewer, since it is a challenging work, one of Lanthimos’ most bleak and haunting examinations of the darkest recesses of the human condition, handcrafted by someone whose commitment to this material is nothing if not admirable. It’s not likely to be the film that defines his career, but rather a hilariously irreverent entry into an already iconic body of work that continues to surprise and bewilder in equal measure.

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