There's no setting more haunting than suburbia. Films ranging from suspense to horror have proven this many a time over the years, bringing to light the darkness that can settle in the idyllic corners of these sprawling neighborhoods. The suburban setting has played a major role in many classic films, including Scream, Poltergeist, and Halloween, to name a few. Nowadays, filmmakers continue to expand upon this seemingly simple location to ruminate on the human experience. Writer-director Lorcan Finnegan is one such filmmaker that took this route for his latest film, meditating on the struggles that many young adults face when jumping into buying their first home and having kids; more importantly, how society's expectations of young adults today often outweigh their own happiness. Vivarium is a wonderfully strange and gripping thriller that examines the stresses of homeownership and starting a family, perhaps all-too-soon.

At the core of this story is Gemma (Imogen Poots) and Tom (Jesse Eisenberg), a young couple looking to make their first big purchase together: a house. One day, the two stumble into the office of an eccentric, but more evidently creepy, real estate agent named Martin (Jonathan Aris). He introduces them to a brand new development known as Yonder, an Edward Scissorhands-esque suburban neighborhood where every house looks and feels the same. Quite literally, the mint green color palette takes center stage as the couple enters into the expansive neighborhood. It's glaringly empty, but the duo pushes on with their tour. The house they venture into, number 9, is a meticulously put together starter home. Each room is completely furnished and styled specifically for the couple, including a room pre-painted blue for a possible child.

The pleasantness of the home becomes one of the film's most unsettling aspects over time. Production designer Philip Murphy and set decorator Julia Davin-Power find increasingly creative ways to make the house's utopian pastel color palette become its own sinister character in the ever-expanding narrative. Thankfully, Gemma and Tom are quick to pick up on the weirdness of it all, but unfortunately, Martin disappears, leaving the couple alone in this eerie location. As they attempt to drive away, they find they're stuck in a labyrinth of green houses, fake lawns, and cotton candy clouds, looping for hours only to make their way back to number 9. After trying and failing multiple times to find a way out, the couple succumbs to the realization that they are, in fact, stuck in Yonder. However, a package arrives one day on their doorstep. Inside, a baby boy resides with a note on the box that reads, "Raise the child and be released," laying the groundwork for the unsettling events to come in their future.


From here, the film excels at finding ways to deeply unsettle its viewer. For instance, the child they're tasked with raising isn't really a child. Excellent sound mixing takes the voice of an innocent child and blends it with that of a much older individual, along with the addition of some monstrous screams, making each interaction with the spastic boy all the more unpleasant. This isn't even taking into account the dress shirt and pants that he wears on a daily basis, which only adds to his deeply disturbing demeanor. Poots and Eisenberg's interactions with the child are thrilling to watch unfold as well, especially as he starts to mimic their conversations and actions, grating on their nerves a little bit extra with each new scene. It's clear he isn't human, but what's interesting is Poots and Eisenberg's differing emotional reactions to him.

Poots' Gemma is a kindergarten teacher, and she connects with children on the most wholesome of levels. The introduction of this other-worldly boy brings a variety of emotional pieces into play as Poots tries to work against her motherly urges. Even without the boy's involvement, her performance is sensational on its own. She expertly crafts Gemma into a complex character that viewers root for until the movie's very final moments. Eisenberg, on the other hand, very rarely reaches new depths with Tom. As he slowly descends into madness searching high and low for a means of escape, his emotional range tends to favor certain reactions rather than exploring the full field in front of him, something that Poots traverses effortlessly throughout the story.


However, it's not just the acting that lifts Finnegan's story to new heights. Vivarium works on a multitude of levels that all come together to bring the haunting atmosphere of Yonder to life. Kristian Eidnes Andersen's droning, anxiety-inducing score is particularly unnerving. Coupled with excellent sound design, the suburban world of Yonder is both expansive and suffocating. Finnegan's direction certainly contributes to the latter, especially as the story heads into its third act. As the narrative explores suspenseful new avenues, the tight camerawork grips the viewer and provides an abundance of chills as the story crescendos into hysteria. Finnegan and co-writer Garret Shanley's script also takes time to lean into the strange, unusual, and occasionally comedic moments in the film, gliding through a variety of genres while keeping the pulse of its main storyline steady.

It's clear that Finnegan's latest feature found bits of inspiration from many projects in the realm of sci-fi and suspense, especially Black Mirror and The Twilight Zone, but ultimately, Vivarium is a wholly original production that offers plenty for viewers to take away. It relishes in its beautifully bizarre fever dream of a story and is all the more successful because of it. Not only that, it provides a relevant social commentary that sticks the landing in the end. Although its eerie originality may not be for everyone, Vivarium will certainly be quick to find a strong, loyal audience.

Vivarium is now available on VOD and Digital HD. It is 97 minutes long and rated R for language and some sexuality/nudity.