It was the first alien that worried me. A quarter of the way through Steven Spielberg’s Disclosure Day, Josh O’Connor’s on-the-run IT guy presents his girlfriend with a surveillance video he’s stolen from his former employers. “This might be hard to watch,” he tells her, of what we quickly learn is more or less an alien snuff film. We see brief glimpses of an ET strapped to a table, as humans prod at it with what look to be electrical implements until it presumably expires. Cut to a stricken Eve Hewson taking all of this footage in, her face lined with tears, her mouth quivering. She is stunned. Emotional. Suddenly questioning everything. I… cringed a bit.
Disclosure Day is full of little moments like this, that seem designed to inspire awe and empathy, but which I greeted with a kind of cold, cynical detachment. This isn’t about CGI or animatronic creations, I should add. I’m sure I wouldn’t like to see Baby Yoda get waterboarded. Very well might cry, even. But there’s a recurring dissonance in Disclosure Day between the weepy histrionics of the characters in the film – who are witnessing things that absolutely blow their tiny human minds – and what I felt, which was usually nothing.
Disclosure Day is about a squad of whistleblowers eager to expose decades of alien cover-up, all of whom are pursued through the US by a mysterious corporation led by Evil Colin Firth. Parts of it resemble one of those late-series X-Files episodes where David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson look increasingly tired. Parts of it are just very good. Spielberg’s use of space, light and character blocking remains unmatched, and Emily Blunt is every bit as great as you’ve heard she is, swishing all over the place as a weathergirl with sudden-onset psychic abilities. A long tracking shot that sees her arrive at her office, get her makeup done, inexplicably speak Korean, and then become Carol Kirkwood, offers a dose of pure, zesty, thrilling cinematic sertraline that the film never, ever hits again.
open image in galleryMany bouts of distracting goofiness follow, before a conclusion that suggests the one thing that could unify a divided, angry populace (there are hilariously vague references to a “World War Three” going on concurrently to all of this) is proof of extraterrestrial life. It’s hokey but not completely objectionable, at least in theory. In Disclosure Day’s concluding scenes, Blunt and O’Connor’s characters, their dual plotlines having converged, manage to broadcast all of the stolen alien tapes – which depict everything from UFOs in the sky to critters emerging from the crash site in Roswell, New Mexico – across every TV news station in the world. Even Fox News halts their regular coverage of loud griping to gaze in wonder rather than condemnation at these illegal aliens. One anchorwoman grows increasingly verklempt at the sight of all of this, while Spielberg unveils a long montage sequence of people across the globe being dazzled by the unearthed footage on their phones. There are tears. There is wonder. Society has officially come to a heady, blissful standstill.
And then – plot twist! – it turns out the whistleblowers have been harbouring a real-life alien this whole time, and they wheel him out in a big plastic box. We see the shadowy outline of a large, almond-shaped head. I’m sure I glimpsed a long finger. Disclosure Day had so lost me by this point that I briefly became convinced ET would be in that box. Not an ET but the ET. Would I have been mad at Disclosure Day if it ultimately revealed itself to be a stealth sequel to Spielberg’s 1982 tribute to weird little guys with chocolate fetishes? Honestly, not hugely. But, alas, the box is opened to reveal just some boring, non-famous alien. Boo!
I didn’t find any of this remotely convincing. Which wouldn’t be a problem if Spielberg hadn’t gone out of his way to set Disclosure Day very much in the here and now, lending its later scenes an undeniable air of artificiality. No one seems particularly troubled by the alien scenes they’re watching on their phones, nor sceptical. Everything is taken at face value and proves totally enrapturing. No one rolls their eyes or cracks a joke. Hell, people really, really care, which in itself seems a bit far-fetched. Remember only last month when the Pentagon published a tranche of “new, never-before-seen” images of speculated UFO activity that had been kept secret for years by the US government? Probably not. I was busy digging into Tess Daly and Vernon Kay’s separation, if I’m being totally honest. In Disclosure Day, proof of alien life doesn’t just interrupt your day but completely reset your faith, your humanity, and your sense of hope.
open image in gallerySpielberg’s treaclyness has been a point of contention for his detractors for decades, but I’ve always found it largely forgivable, as it’s usually offset by a fascinating sourness. ET winds up in syrup, but only amid the darkness of government conspiracy and human threat. It earns its sentiment. The aliens of Close Encounters turn out to be our friends, but Richard Dreyfuss still seemingly loses his family and his sanity in trying to find them. The Fabelmans, Spielberg’s semi-autobiographical masterpiece from 2022, is full of “ooh, the magic of the movies” dazzle, but also depicts its central teen-Spielberg surrogate as a maladjusted kook.
Disclosure Day feels oddly frictionless in comparison – no one dies, no allegiances shift; the bad guys simply stop chasing our heroes whenever they encounter a slight snag. Spielberg is admirably hopeful for a man who’s been on this planet for nearly 80 years and seen any number of real-life horrors unfold in real time, but here his hopefulness hits a wall. It comes off a bit silly.
Watch Apple TV+ free for 7 day
New subscribers only. £9.99/mo. after free trial. Plan auto-renews until cancelled.
ADVERTISEMENT. If you sign up to this service we will earn commission. This revenue helps to fund journalism across The Independent.
Watch Apple TV+ free for 7 day
New subscribers only. £9.99/mo. after free trial. Plan auto-renews until cancelled.
ADVERTISEMENT. If you sign up to this service we will earn commission. This revenue helps to fund journalism across The Independent.
I admit that this might be a me problem. A colleague admitted that he cried three times while watching Disclosure Day, and while I was of course eager to label him a pansy and call it a day, I also worry that the film didn’t work for me because I’m just a bit dead inside. Sentiment, wistfulness, optimism? I don’t know her! Then again, aren’t we all a bit dead inside at this point? Don’t we all doomscroll constantly?
Disclosure Day is the work of a man who isn’t subjected to a constant stream of death, carnage and murder on their X account. This is, for Spielberg’s own sanity, a very good thing. But it also makes his latest movie a bit of an unintentional giggle-fest – an expensive attempt at emotional uplift for an audience who might be too far gone.
‘Disclosure Day’ is in cinemas