Charlie Polinger’s feature debut is, ostensibly, a ‘thriller’ set at a boys’ water polo camp. Unfortunately, the unmet expectations of The Plague don’t stop at the film’s genre credentials.
The Plague follows 12-year-old Ben (played by Everett Blunck, whose already impressive list of credits includes the beleaguered Rust) as he arrives at an all boys sleepaway camp for water polo players. There he meets coach and would-be mentor, Daddy Wags (Joel Edgerton, fresh off the success of Train Dreams), and attempts to fold himself into the social milieu. Ben also becomes aware of the lore around uncool kid Eli (Kenny Rasmussen), who is said to be infected with a ‘plague’ or ‘leprosy’ which is only transmissible via touch. Though, if you wash your hands afterwards you’re probably fine.
While shot like a slow-paced arthouse horror film, there isn’t much here narratively that seems to merit the genre conventions. One could even say there isn’t much here narratively at all. In fact, the concept of shooting a run-of-the-mill bullying story like it’s a horror film – because being bullied is a ‘real-life horror’ – gives me the urge to push someone into a locker myself. The score insistently imparts an eerie tone that feels completely unearned by the action on-screen. The opening underwater shot of pre-teen bodies diving beneath the surface in hypnotic slow-mo quickly turns to deja vu, as near identical shots recur ad nauseum. The slow-motion scenes, in general, feel like they occupy more runtime than their real-time counterparts. And why on earth is this set in 2003? It feels like an overly personal choice telegraphed only by the inclusion of a Lil Jon song on the soundtrack.
What the script lacks in story it attempts to make up for in its thematic premise, or the bludgeoning thereof. As this is a story which centres adolescence, of course it must deal primarily with bullying. The positioning of social isolation as a sort of ‘plague’ in the eyes of young boys, with the belief that if they transgress the social hierarchy they too will become tainted, is a little too on-the-nose to justify The Plague’s pretentiousness. Ben’s internal conflict around whether to succumb to peer pressure or take a moral stance is also territory that’s been tread countless times before. His vegetarianism, presented to muddy the waters and highlight his hypocrisy, is just about the only depth of character he is afforded. The boys around him are similarly thinly sketched, particularly for a film that makes the raw realities of adolescent masculinity its supposed primary concern.
In fact, the most compelling character is unintentionally head bully Jake (played convincingly by Kayo Martin) who delivers the most credible line of the film to his inept coach: “You don’t know jack shit about water polo, bitch!” The revelation that his mother is dead poses some interesting questions around the significance of the rigidity with which he approaches his tenure at camp and his relationships with his peers, but unfortunately the film isn’t interested in addressing these. This general apathy towards its subjects makes The Plague feel mean-spirited and hollow.
The Plague feels like a concept that would have worked better as a short film. If you’re interested in a long and occasionally unflinching look at the anxieties of boyhood, there may yet be something here for you. However, if you are someone who is already familiar with The Golden Rule and its applications, it’s unlikely you’ll gain much insight from this viewing experience.