Last time we checked in on indie titan Mark Duplass, it was with the softly soul-crushing Paddleton, and his latest production works under a similar premise. Like Paddleton, this is also the story of two best friends dealing with a particularly bleak personal scenario and finding a way to bond during the experience. Only this time, it’s not just the impending death of a single person; it’s the aftermath of the apocalypse. Duplass’ Billy and Sterling K. Brown’s Ray are the last two human beings alive, kept safe and in relative comfort in the titular Biosphere that Ray designed and built.
It's a two-hander that often feels like a stage-play, but credit to the production values for making the most out of an intentionally cramped setting. Nathan M. Miller’s cinematography does justice to the mumblecore indie dramas of yore, giving ample frame room for the conversations that take up the bulk of the run time. The set design creates this odd sensation where the singular set indeed feels like a living space, but with the dome ever-present in the background keeping the underlying tragedy behind the characters’ placement within it. Even the soundtrack from Saunder Jurriaans and Danny Bensi is incredibly fitting, using acapella arrangements to further the idea of scarcity within the stakes of the plot, as if any and all musical instruments were also lost in the apocalypse but the desire to create music survived.
Then there’s the two-man cast, both of whom are really fucking good. Billy was the final President of the United States before the disaster happened, and dialogue hints at how he might’ve had an active role in said disaster, but the specifics aren’t really the focus here. Instead, it’s how Billy and his hyperactive neuroses deal with the notion that, while he somehow survived, any change in their little ecosystem could still mean the end of not just himself but also his entire species. Duplass brings his typical understated energy to the performance, and considering just how weird things get inside that Biosphere, him managing to make it come across as naturally as he does is quite the accomplishment.
As for Ray, Billy’s childhood best friend and advisor during his time in office, he is shown as an engineer first and foremost. He takes an analytical approach to problems as they arise, starting with the sudden death of the only male fish in their pond which itself is vital to the Biosphere’s ecosystem. While he’s the one who seems to take the events of the story mostly in stride, he’s also the one dealing with the most hang-ups regarding his upbringing and even his own potential role in events. Seeing him trying to figure out how to have sex with Billy in the least awkward way possible is at once a very engineer-brain moment, and one of many instances that highlight the film’s core ideas.
Along with the existential dread of their circumstances and pondering whether humanity even deserves to survive if this is what they reduced the world to, the main thing on this film’s mind is masculinity. Specifically, masculinity when it isn’t defined as part of a binary with femininity because there are no women left. They get into the expected musings about sexuality and gender identity and what informs both, and while the statements made aren’t exactly new information for those who have already shaken off the heterorthodoxy like myself, the way Ray and Billy conversate about them gives them the grounding of two best friends… maybe even two lovers, who are trying to figure this shit out for themselves.
That’s the main reason why this whole thing works: The chemistry between the actors. Whether they’re talking about the origins of Mario, a mysterious green light shining from outside the sphere, or dealing with the possibility of a future for humanity as defined by Jurassic Park, they deliver it all with the rapport of genuine friendship and understanding. Or, at least, the need to understand, rather than speaking purely in hypotheticals.
This is basically Biodome done right. It’s a buddy comedy that organically finds its way into philosophical discussions about the nature of mankind and men in particular, pinned with the kind of gonzo optimism that I find irresistible in genre media. It’s undoubtedly one of the stranger films I’ve seen this year, and coming from a first-time writer/director in Mel Eslyn, it makes for a rock-solid beginning to what I genuinely hope is a fruitful career in the chair.
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