Greatland (2020), is a visual mind f*ck, a snow-globe of glitter and digital emoticons, sometimes looking like a Lisa Frank picture come to life. Not only is Greatland visually assaulting but its social commentary is just as biting, hitting the nail on the head explaining the never-changing economic class relations of the elite rich vs. the lower class with a story about a virus gripping a nation during an election (might as well have called it America). Written and directed by Dana Ziyasheva, Greatland is both political satire and a coming of age film, one that reminded me a bit of Brazil (1985) or The Lobster (2015) in sentiment, with a ‘big mother is watching you’ kind of vibe — the friendly face belying a sinister motive, one which the movie’s characters attempt to escape from.

In the future, rampant technology has been dwindled down to a single device — a watch with an operating system called Mother that informs and dictates everyone’s lives, that is, everyone belonging to the Greats, the class of everyday people. Surrounded by seemingly fun activities and decorations in an ultra-colorful world, 15-year-old Ulysses (Arman Darbo) and his childhood friend Ugly Duck (Chloe Ray Warmoth) navigate their liminal period of transitioning into adulthood in this failed utopia. When Ugly Duck is taken for processing after experiencing her first period, Ulysses embarks on a mission to rescue her, braving a world without Mother and venturing into forbidden territories. Meanwhile, a virus looms over their everyday life and a presidential election between a rich dog and a rich cat is sowing discontent — all another day in the beautiful, peace-and-love-or-else land of Greatland.

Greatland is styled like an escapist, fantasy feature, but its commentary and narrative will bring you back to a sobering reality of viruses, elections, and total intolerance of intolerance. Greatland is set in a place that aesthetically reminded me of a twisted, sinister version of Pee-wee’s Playhouse, one where the young characters take food like drugs, and furthermore, often look and act like they are on suppressants. Early on, the movie’s dialogue seemed to explicitly impart a message of blind liberal altruism leading to subjugation, but hidden behind the distraction of neon lights and maniacally optimistic characters. From behind the shiny candy-coated cinematography, the film seemed to be saying that leftism run amuck can corrupt and suppress nearly as well as conservatism.

The movie had an uncomfortable adulteration of youth, touching on the child sex slave trade among the rich, an issue that is also pulled from the headlines of today. I would also say that Greatland has what I feel is a controversial styling to its characters, featuring androgynously dressed males, a few even in some badass looking drag, including one particularly interesting character named Priest that floated dangerously close to a typical magical negro character. Used for guiding the protagonist’s direction without being given a backstory or role beyond his sass, at least this character was likable thanks to Donzell Lewis‘s memorable performance. Protagonist Arman Darbo also stood out in his role as Ulysses, portraying his character’s emotional and physical transitions of being 15 in an apathetic society delivering a beautiful performance that reminded me of a young Leonardo DiCaprio.

Weird, thought-provoking, challenging, and darkly comedic, Greatland is a how-to on how to start a revolution by ripping up the social contracts that we sign with our everyday compliance to oppressive systems. It is definitely not a movie that was made to be liked by the masses, especially since it seems to villainize leftist agendas instead of using the usual capitalist villains, but it is one of those movies that the masses should probably see. Director Dana Ziyasheva pays great attention to detail throughout the movie, from clever and ruthlessly political writing, character development that even takes time to make the peanut gallery characters just as interesting as the main characters, and creating a rainbow-colored glasses world juxtaposed with morally rotten antagonists. It is a movie that will have you saying ‘what the f*ck’ and thinking about its many hidden messages, metaphors, and symbolism for days after, as it holds up a bedazzled mirror to America 2020 and gives a bleak prophecy for its future.

7 out of 10