The Plague Review: A Bullying Drama of Paranoia Demands a Suspension of Disbelief

      If you've ever witnessed tween bullying, you understand that, before it turns personal, the process of selecting a target starts with relentless annoyance; the first to succumb to this is typically the most psychologically vulnerable. The Plague, the debut film from writer-director Charlie Polinger, operates similarly, overwhelming its audience with a continuous score that resembles a small army making irritating taunting noises, practically daring you to capitulate. While it may be too simplistic to label it mental warfare, stepping into the shoes of a 12-year-old being assessed for potential bullying at a water polo camp certainly evokes that feeling – at least to an extent. There is a limit to the level of sustained anxiety Polinger can generate regarding the threat of bullying and social exclusion, particularly when adults are nearby and somewhat aware of what's happening. Eventually, it becomes challenging to maintain disbelief at the extent of teacher-student negligence necessary for the story to unfold.

      Set in a 2003 that feels reminiscent of the late 1990s due to its surprising number of Eurodance music moments and references to Smash Mouth, The Plague starts with Ben (Everett Blunck) arriving at a California water polo camp, immediately finding himself an outcast. His mother has recently remarried, marking his first stop after the family relocated from the other coast; his differences are quickly accentuated when Jake (Kayo Martin) fixates on his speech impediment, making him repeat various phrases for the entire lunch table. Jake doesn’t come across as a blatant bully, but it's evident that his leadership status is bolstered by the visible traits of his classmates, which he can wield against them should they stray out of line – for now, their focus is entirely on Eli (Kenny Rasmussen), whom they label with a mythical “plague” due to an undisclosed skin condition. If he sits near them, they hurriedly shift tables; if he touches them, they rush to the showers to cleanse themselves, fearing they too will be seen as infected and ostracized. This is the environment Ben has to navigate, and Polinger seizes every chance to depict it as a living nightmare, forcing him to avoid the one person he has anything in common with and instead socialize with someone who makes it clear he would betray Ben at the first chance.

      In this world, Joel Edgerton plays the coach who knows one of his students is being targeted – it’s hard not to notice when half the cafeteria flees their table as he approaches – but he is ineffective in addressing it. There is a seed of a well-observed idea here: who doesn’t remember a school moment where a teacher proved inadequate in intervening against a bully, or handing out equal punishments to the antagonist and the victim? This psychological warfare reminiscent of Lord of the Flies is hardly concealed, but the level of ignorance displayed by the adult characters for The Plague's plot to unfold borders on farcical. Even from the perspective of a shy tween who might feel as if the world is collapsing if he becomes a target, it's difficult to accept the situation as it is. The insularity of the children’s social environment remains unaffected by the ever-present adults in the background; as Jake continues his behavior even in the presence of a teacher, there’s never a tangible threat pushing him to disguise how he or any of his peers is treated. Everything is openly visible from the start, leading the film to feel like a long setup before the inevitable moment when Ben learns to stand up for himself – there’s no clear divide between the adult and child realms that would cause him to hide and question this outcome.

      That said, there are moments of insightful observation. As the boys approach their teenage years, there is a natural disparity in their understanding of sexuality, and though it's not explicitly stated, it’s evident that the shy, sensitive Ben lags behind in grasping the basics of sex. He initially tries to join Jake’s group during a game of Would You Rather, where each question aims to force someone into confessing something sexually embarrassing; later, on his first night in the dorm, his bully in the bunk above prompts him to discuss a girl from back home for material to fap to. It’s a profoundly confusing atmosphere for a boy who seems yet to experience his own awakening, where sex is portrayed by peers as something every boy is expected to have encountered, yet also serves as a means of humiliating others. A boy getting a public erection is shunned, while another openly masturbating in the dorm receives no punishment – the rules are inconsistent, and the dynamics only become more perplexing if you’re trying to fit in, living in fear that the next misstep could leave you isolated at a lunch table alone, on the far side of the cafeteria.

      In those moments where the characters exist completely apart from the adult world, the growing paranoia is at its most powerful. When Polinger pulls back to present the larger context, he struggles to maintain