Contagion

What do you get when you take an all-star cast of characters, pair them with an inadequate script and then play Russian roulette to figure out who lives and who dies? The answer is Contagion, Steven Soderbergh’s latest directorial blockbuster about a mysterious illness that is rapidly wiping out a number of populations worldwide.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sYSyuuLk5g

The concept alone is enough to trigger anxiety in even the least obsessive compulsive of us. With ads that read: “Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t touch anyone,” there’s sure to be an increased demand for antibacterial soap and hand sanitizer. And while I commend the producers for their timing as we’re not in the middle of the next SARS or H1N1 crisis, I think the delivery of the story is lacking.

Take the number of characters, for instance. The film stars Matt Damon as Mitch Emhoff, whose wife Beth (Gwyneth Paltrow), has recently returned from a business trip to Hong Kong in lackluster health, and may very well be “patient zero.” Then there’s Kate Winslet who plays Dr. Erin Mears, something of a field investigator from the World Health Organization. Let’s not forget Marion Cotillard, aka Dr. Leonora Orantes, whose presence in the movie is still inexplicable to me, and whose story itself is both unnecessary and left without closure. We’ve also got Laurence Fishburne, Jude Law and Bryan Cranston rounding out the cast, which begs the question, who isn’t in Contagion?

So many characters; so little time for character development. The film is mostly devoid of emotion so that each time a character drops dead, you think of them as nothing more than the next helium balloon to deflate. And the party’s definitely over for some of the afore-mentioned cast, but my lips are sealed. Come to think of it, so is my door. And the crack under my door. And I’m huddled in the corner wearing a surgical mask.

The plot of Contagion is simple: figure out the illness and destroy it. There’s doctors, there’s patients, there’s mass chaos. The military is brought in. Bodies are stacked in mass graves. An autopsy is performed, which is quite possibly the most squeamish, uncomfortable and yet utterly fascinating visual scene in the entire flick. There’s coughing, foaming at the mouth and touching…lots of touching. Be prepared for repeated close-ups on door handles, subway posts, glasses and plates. It’s truly disturbing how many things we touch each day before and after touching our faces. I dare you not to wash your hands after the credits roll.

But while this movie is a lesson in fear-mongering, I’m sad to say that Outbreak did this story better in 1995. Though the infectious disease was different, the stakes seemed higher because the characters had emotion and the audience actually wanted them to survive.

Unfortunately, Contagion, I was not impressed.