On its surface, Disclosure Day functions as an adequate sci-fi thriller. The acting is top-notch, and Spielberg’s command of the action set piece remains masterful. John Williams supplies yet another vivid, melodic score. The only problem is the better movie that lies beneath it all. Spielberg is so fixated on delivering a propulsive piece of kinetic entertainment that he sacrifices the thought-provoking—and frighteningly relevant—opus that might’ve been.
We’ll circle back to that in a minute. Spielberg opens the film in curious fashion, at a screaming, chair-smashing WWE brawl. The camera settles on one lonely dweeb who doesn’t seem to be having any fun. He’s Daniel (Josh O’Connor), a whistleblower for a shadowy tech company. As Daniel fidgets and eyes the exits, a squad of henchmen descends. (These scowling bad guys, dressed all in black, couldn’t look more like evil underlings if they’d bounded out of Dr. Evil’s volcano lair.)
It’s a strong hook. As Daniel bolts, we meet Scanlon (Colin Firth), the corporate point man sent to hunt him down. The role demands an urbane, even-keeled presence, and Firth is note-perfect casting. Along the way, Daniel is joined by his girlfriend Jane (Eve Hewson), who desperately wants to unravel the mystery of the man she loves.
Meanwhile, in a completely different quadrant of the movie, Margaret (Emily Blunt) prepares for a typical day as a Kansas City meteorologist. She and her boyfriend (Wyatt Russell) discuss her career ambitions and wanderlust. We get a few beats into this draggy conversation when something strange happens. A red bird flits into their apartment and stares at Margaret with mystical intensity. Suddenly, she can speak fluent Mandarin and empathically connect with everyone around her. These powers come to a head during a live broadcast, when Margaret lets out a burst of bizarre sounds and collapses to the ground.
Obviously, Margaret’s sudden abilities and Daniel’s deep, dark secrets are related. This sets up a second act in which these ordinary people try to find each other, with techie villains hot on their heels. Their respective truths will alter the fate of humanity, for better or worse.
A lot of that will ring familiar for Spielberg fans. Indeed, Disclosure Day invites instant comparisons to Close Encounters (an otherworldly presence that breadcrumbs humanity toward an ultimate discovery), War of the Worlds (an existential crisis, duh), and even Minority Report (an underdog on the run from dystopian overlords). And to a certain extent, those individual pieces work better than the film as a whole. In short bursts, Day offers up gripping spectacle.
Unfortunately, it also demonstrates the blessing and curse of being a monumental filmmaker like Spielberg. His oeuvre is so ubiquitous and transcendent that he couldn’t outrun it if he tried. (For a similar example, see McCartney, Paul.) From most other directors, Disclosure Day would be a solid, engrossing film, and probably a harbinger of bigger and better things. But from a man with so many Oscars and so many iconic moments that he gets his own cinematic adjective—Spielbergian—it feels like a disappointment.
Part of the fault lies in David Koepp’s screenplay. The movie kicks off at a Tom Cruise-style sprint, and it never takes a genuine pause. That sounds like exactly what you want from popcorn escapism, but it ends up being Day‘s biggest liability. None of the main characters get fleshed out beyond a simple sketch. They’re defined by running to or from something, and not much else. What little characterization Koepp supplies is told rather than shown, so we never really bond with any of the leads. For comparison, Close Encounters spends its first third building Richard Dreyfuss’s character into a relatable human. When his life comes unraveled, it means something. This story desperately needs more meat on the bone.
The film’s moral dilemma feels similarly malnourished. I won’t give too much away, except to say that the central conflict is whether humanity is ready and able to process the titular disclosure. What if the revelation tears us to shreds? What responsibility does the messenger truly bear?
Those questions offer enough tension for an entire movie, but Day never commits to its own moral and philosophical complexity. (To see this kind of thing done right, check out Contact, Robert Zemeckis’s criminally underrated adaptation of Carl Sagan.) This story should give us relatable characters worth rooting for, plunged into decisions that boggle the mind and spirit. We need more dramatic beats and deeply poignant dialogue, but Day doesn’t make time for either. Two key examples: Colman Domingo, as Daniel’s handler, does little more than offer exasperated commentary into a burner phone. And Jane’s history as a Catholic novice never collides with the story’s implications for faith and spirituality nearly as hard as it should.
All that said, Disclosure Day still has a lot going for it. At the top of the list is Blunt, who brings warmth and off-center humor to her flummoxed Everywoman. Margaret is the most underwritten role in the film, but Blunt does everything she can to elevate it. (Russell, on the other hand, is completely squandered as the naggy jock boyfriend.) O’Connor is similarly strong, imbuing Daniel with geeky vulnerability. Among the supporting players, Firth makes for the best kind of villain: calm and cool. Hewson is a compelling presence, even if her character is meant to carry more spiritual and emotional weight than the script can provide.
In the final analysis, take the three stars atop this review as a very soft recommendation. Disclosure Day may be frustratingly uneven, but it’s never boring. In fact, your best bet might be to put your brain in low-power mode and enjoy the story as it hurtles along. That way, you won’t notice how much substance is missing. As consolation prizes go, you could do worse than strong performances, lush orchestral cues, and eye-popping cinematography. The only shame is that Disclosure Day doesn’t have a little more to disclose.
145 min. Peacock. PG-13.
