Contagion (2011)

Contagion (2011) is much like Steven Soderbergh’s Academy award winning chronicle of the drug war Traffic (2000) except this one is about a deadly virus.  Soderbergh, acting once again as his own DP, still provides ice blue and warm yellow monochromatic shots of various plot threads focusing on a government bureaucracy that is - ideally – in a position to help but also has structures and protocols that get in the way.   Moreover, like Traffic, Contagion features an electronic score by frequent Soderbergh collaborator (and former Red Hot Chili Peppers drummer) Cliff Martinez, slick editing by Stephen Mirrione, and another Vanity Fair Oscar Party of an ensemble cast.   The key difference between the former and the latter is characterization and unfortunately Contagion takes the form of its subject:  a detached, calculated, killer. 

The film begins with a black screen, placing the emphasis on the soundtrack as we begin to hear coughing.  When Soderbergh fades up, he provides us with the subtitle “Day 2” over a shot of a sickly Beth Emhoff (Gwyneth Paltrow).  She is the Eve that will bring down Paradise, not via the sin of having an affair with a lover (voiced by Soderbergh) but by hanging out in a casino in Macau and getting on a transnational flight.  By the time she arrives home to her husband Mitch (Matt Damon) in Minnesota, she is suffering from seizures and frothing at the mouth.  She is quickly dispatched and when her son joins her (in addition to some other innocent by-standers that Soderbergh weaves in there), it becomes clear that a canister of Vapor Rub and some chicken soup isn’t going to remedy this flu. 

Soon after, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention become involved in an investigation to track down the source of the virus and a cure.  Dr. Ellis Cheever (Laurence Fishburne) sends Dr. Erin Mears (Kate Winslet) to Minnesota to try to contain the outbreak cluster while supervising two doctors’ (Jennifer Ehle and Demetri Martin) search for a cure.  Meanwhile, World Health Organization investigator Dr. Leonora Orantes (Marion Cotillard) travels to Hong Kong in an attempt to track down the origins of the virus and spends the bulk of the film watching surveillance tapes from the Micau casino.  At the same time, blogger Alan Krumwiede (Jude Law) uses the internet to stoke the fires of fear by insisting that the virus is being covered up by the government.  Oh yeah, Soderbergh also adds a sprinkle of Elliot Gould, Brian Cranston, and John Hawkes to his hot zone pot.

There are several problems with the structure of this film which I would tend to fault writer Scott Z. Burns for.  First, given that it is 106 minute film that spans the globe and more than a couple plot lines, the characters are minimally defined.  All the conversations the characters have are about the virus:  the search for the cause of the virus, the search for a cure for the virus, how the government should respond to the virus, if someone is showing symptoms of the virus, rinse and repeat.  We never learn anything about these characters – I was frankly surprised that some of them even had names – aside from their virally defined role.  Thus, we never really care when a character launches into a coughing fit (except for one character, really) and there is no emotional closure to the life or death character arcs. 

What makes this disappointment even greater is that screenwriter Burns seems to realize the limitations of his large yet shallow canvas, which causes him to indulge in simplistic caricature.  This is glaring in the subplot involving the blogger character who we know is not to be trusted not because he’s played by a particularly seedy Jude Law nor because he’s an unethical journalist but because he has a set of teeth that look like they came out of rural pub in Manchester (Burns used a hairpiece to similar effect in his last collaboration with Soderbergh and Damon, The Informant!).  Moreover, some of the plotlines and characters just do not contribute much to the grand scheme of things, especially the storylines based around Law’s blogger and Cotillard’s doctor, which are never provided with a conclusion.  Finally, while some of these characters and the film overall are portrayed as being incredibly smart they perform some incredibly stupid actions.  For instance, Winslet’s doctor stays in a hotel in the midst of a community suffering a viral outbreak, despite warning other characters “Don’t talk to anyone.  Don’t touch anyone.”  Similarly, Elliot Gould’s doctor, who is working on a cure, ventures out to a coffee shop filled with coughers.  If I was a CDC doctor in this scenario, I’d be wearing one of those plastic space suits around at all times. 

All of these flaws are particularly frustrating and disappointing because the film does provide a nuanced portrait of how a disease would cripple the world and the population both with sickness and fear.  It’s uncompromising in its pessimism, never looking away when Paltrow gets her skull sawed open and her scalp is folded over her traditionally beautiful visage nor when we discover the cause of the virus.  Yet, the film is so focused on the performance of its main subject - the virus - that it verges on being emotionally challenged.  For instance, when Fishburne inoculates a young child against the virus, he launches into a monologue on the cultural meaning behind a handshake stating (I’m paraphrasing here) “We offer an open hand as a sign that we are unarmed and friendly…Sometimes I wonder if the virus knows that.”  What the hell does the kid care?  This film, like Dr. Cheever, is in some serious need of bedside manner.