In The Oath, director-writer Ike Barinholtzturns that day of celebration into a surreal comedy, equal parts freak show and dumpster fire, where national politics and churning fascism intersect friends and family with terrifying results.
As the film progresses, Barinholtz cleverly calendarizes the days approaching that fourth Thursday of November, counting down Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday as the clan gathers and the politics start to boil. So far, this is a biting, bitter satire, filled with wit and surprisingly insightful moments of OMG recognition on what it means to be a loyal American and patriot in a nation that says it values liberty and justice for all. Then comes Thanksgiving Day itself, and we veer into another film altogether as the long-awaited festive feast explodes in self-immolation when politics collide to divide the pluribus from the unum. The biting satire turns vicious and vindictive, with both family and citizenry splintered and split beyond recognition, so much so that we wonder how the two halves can possibly be in the same movie.
Yet, still I laughed through the tears.
If you think this is just a movie, and not a statement about contemporary life in America, then think again, as one character spells it out: “It’s not politics. It’s current events.” The zeitgeist has been tapped and Barinholtz is holding the torch, to mix my metaphors in the same way this film mixes its vigor and volatility.
We are in a future (present?) when Americans are asked to sign a loyalty oath to the President of the United States — it's not mandated, but there is a tax break for those who do. If you do not, then you can expect neighborly peer pressure to bring you on board, and if that’s not enough to make you see the error of your independent thinking, then there’s the Homeland Security Citizens Protection Unit (CPU) that can be brought in to assist. It’s as Orwellian as you can imagine, and you cringe to see how the government manipulates language and intent so that war is peace, freedom is slavery and ignorance is strength. As extra pressure on Americans, who really just want to finish their turkey and get to the holiday sales, this loyalty oath must be signed by Black Friday.
Rockwell meets Picasso's Guernica
Let’s just say the situation escalates and soon enough we have blood and tasers, handcuffs and zip ties, concussions and comas. The film veers into a deep, dark hole where the first half's laughter of familiarity becomes a second half of discordant cruelty — and a much-too-easy resolution.
It really is not what the Pilgrims and Native Americans had in mind when they sat down together to share succotash.
But it’s the world we live in today.
It’s a warm and nurturing time here in the claustrophobic confines of a dining room that initially resembles that classic Norman Rockwell illustration of a loving family gathered around the centerfold turkey. But Rockwell meets Picasso's Guernica, as the family feast's celebratory food is offered by an enraged and foul-mouthed lunatic. Chris’s brother Patrick (Jon Barinholtz, the director's actual brother) brings girlfriend Abbie (Meredith Hagner) to the feast; both are in favor of the Oath and quickly get under Chris’s very sensitive skin with their discussion of Chris Rock’s racism. Typical of such heated, loose-cannon family exchanges is when the dialogue sinks to the name-calling level of “This isn’t political, but fuck you…This is America, so fuck you!” and when Chris and Kai call Abbie “a trash pussy.” Barinholtz the writer delivers genuine laughs even with caricatured characters. His good cop/bad cop routine between CPU agents Peter and Mason is masterful, even as Peter spends much of his time in a coma and Mason his time with duct tape over his mouth. Just a typical holiday with the folks.
But ultimately, it’s people over politics, and I suppose I should be grateful Barinholtz chose the less cynical resolution. But how realistic that is, though, is a total other consideration.
The film ends with Mason Williams' "Classical Gas" on the soundtrack and lovely closeups of a shiny knife slicing into a luscious apple pie with a slab served on a pristine white plate, the long-delayed Thanksgiving dessert finally getting its moment in the spotlight. It's as American as, well, you know, a shorthand nod to our iconic national values after the political upheaval and violent confrontation we've just endured.
For those in the know, by the way, the scientific term "classical gas" refers to "collisions between electromagnetic and gravitational fields with classical molecules in continuous internal degrees of freedom including vibration and rotation."
Whatever that means… but there is certainly a lot of vibration and rotation in the family and national dynamics here. It seems an apt description of just what happens when tribal politics and unfettered outrage dominate not just an American Thanksgiving but control our very being.
By the way, the midterm election is on Tuesday, November 6, 12 days before Thanksgiving. What state will we all be in by then? Count your blessings now. Fortify yourself for battle. See this movie. Vote.
Ben Wiley taught literature and film at St. Petersburg College. At USF/Tampa, he was statewide Director of the Florida Consortium/University of Cambridge (UK) International Summer Schools. His interests are film, theater, books, and kayaking Florida rivers. He also writes the BookStories feature in Creative Loafing Tampa. Contact him here.
This article appears in Oct 18-25, 2018.