NYFF Review: White Noise

For roughly the first hour of White Noise, it feels like you’re watching the next great American satire. Based on Don DeLillo’s 1985 novel of the same name, the 1980s-set story sees an average, suburb-enjoying family navigate a vaguely supernatural local catastrophe. The humor is derived from the parents’ blind trust in the system, the over-saturation of capitalism of the era, and the unconvincing American attitude of invincibility. In other words, at its best, the film echoes The Simpsons’ classic era (with a strong Danny Elfman score in tow).

Jack (Adam Driver) is a delusional, buffoonish professor of “Hitler Studies,” while Babette (Greta Gerwig) is a loyal, trusting, and mysterious pill-popping housewife taking care of their four kids, the older two of which (Raffey Cassidy and Sam Nivola) have all the political and ethical agency of Lisa Simpson. They exist in seemingly perfect harmony, taking family trips to their enormous, colorful supermarket and watching bursts of violence on the local news. Product placement throughout feels like an asset, as commercialism seems to have drowned part of the community adults’ identities (something Jack and Babette’s children rebel against).

But when an accident leaves a dark, dangerous cloud of chemicals hanging over their town, it’s up to the whole family to figure out how to survive, their only limit being the incompetence instilled in them by the American system. This section of White Noise is remarkably alive, with Driver delivering some of his funniest work ever and Baumbach stepping out of his comfort zone to direct a few set pieces that play in Spielberg’s toy box. All the while, period details are feasibly brought into modern conversations of fake news (“Family is the cradle of the world’s misinformation,” a character bemuses early on) and personal responsibility vs. our responsibility to others (this is, undoubtedly, a COVID movie).

Then, the film changes. The humor falls to the wayside and a previously curious subplot takes over the entire story. Gerwig moves closer to centerstage and, talented as an actress as she may be, starts to feel miscast. Unable to match the convincing yet heightened quality of Driver’s performance, a few of her big scenes fall completely flat. At the same time, the film’s energy starts to fade as the satire has less bite and the plot morphs into a relatively standard noir. Half or more of the two-hour-and-15-minute runtime is spent here, taking an less iinteresting, and too often unrelated, detour from the world Baumbach established in the opening act.

This tonal shift ends up being White Noise’s downfall. By the time the credits roll, it feels like you’ve watched two very different films involving the same family, one of them being much more enjoyable. Both halves of its awkward bisection deal with the faux comforts our society offers, but with such a stark shift in the film’s cadence, it all starts to feel out of sync.

The title is often self-referential. Unimportant noise is a constant in the family’s lives, including when they’re the root of said chaos. It’s disappointing then when the film as a whole steers away from its strong, spirited opening into just more noise without a clear focus. White Noise is the kind of work meant to wake its audience up, and for a while, it seems like it could really succeed. But the rest is too easy to tune out to say that it does.