In the sweltering heat of the summer of 2003, Charlie Polinger invites us into the high-stakes, chlorine-scented world of an all-boys water polo camp. The Plague, released in late 2025 after a celebrated premiere at the Cannes Film Festival, is a psychological thriller that feels both like a time capsule and a timely warning. Produced by a collective of indie powerhouses including Spooky Pictures and Five Henrys, and distributed by the Independent Film Company, the film has already begun to generate significant buzz for its uncompromising look at the "tyranny of boyhood."
The story follows Ben, a twelve-year-old boy burdened by a paralyzing social anxiety that makes every interaction feel like a life-or-death negotiation. At camp, he becomes a witness to, and eventually a participant in, a cruel tradition known as "The Plague." This game involves the systematic targeting and ostracization of Eli, an outcast who is perceived as "ill" or "different." As the summer progresses, the boundaries between this adolescent ritual and a darker, more literal reality begin to erode. With a cast led by newcomer Everett Blunck and the reliable Joel Edgerton, The Plague is more than just a coming-of-age story; it is a visceral exploration of the masks we wear to survive the pack.
Story and Screenplay: The Psychological Warfare of the Pack
Polinger, who both wrote and directed the film, displays a remarkable grasp of narrative tension. The structure of the film is a masterclass in the "pressure cooker" approach. By isolating these boys in a camp environment, Polinger removes the safety nets of home and family, leaving them to create their own primitive social hierarchy. The pacing is deliberate, allowing the dread to seep in like a slow-acting infection. It begins with the awkward, sweaty reality of water polo drills and late-night cabin whispers, but eventually shifts into something far more claustrophobic.
The originality of the script lies in its thematic subtext regarding neurodivergence. While the word "autism" or "neurodivergence" is never explicitly shouted, the screenplay brilliantly illustrates the concept of "masking." Ben is a character who is constantly monitoring his own behavior, trying to mimic the "normal" boys to avoid becoming the next target. His relationship with Eli serves as the film’s moral and emotional compass. Eli is the "unmasked" version of what Ben fears in himself, a boy who is at ease with his own differences, which makes him a threat to the rigid social order of the camp. The script’s primary strength is its ability to turn a simple camp game into a metaphorical exploration of how society treats those who refuse to conform, though some might find the climactic confrontation a bit too high-concept for what began as a grounded character study.
Acting and Characters: Vulnerability in a Violent World
The performances in The Plague are nothing short of revelatory, particularly from the young leads. Everett Blunck plays Ben with an internalized intensity that is painful to watch. You can see the gears turning in his head as he calculates every move, his eyes darting between his peers like a prey animal. It is a performance defined by what is left unsaid, capturing the specific agony of being twelve and terrified of being noticed for the wrong reasons. In contrast, Kenny Rasmussen’s Eli is a breath of fresh air. He brings a subtle humanism to a character that could have easily been a "magical" trope. Rasmussen makes Eli feel real, grounded, and ultimately, the most courageous person in the film.
Kayo Martin, as the antagonist Jake, provides the necessary friction. He isn’t a cartoonish bully but rather a boy who understands the camp’s social currency better than anyone. He represents the seductive power of belonging to the "in-group," and his chemistry with Blunck is fraught with a tension that suggests both attraction and repulsion. Joel Edgerton, as the camp director "Daddy Wags," provides a fascinating adult perspective. He represents an older generation of masculinity that often turns a blind eye to "boys being boys," unaware that the traditions he permits are actually soul-crushing rituals. The ensemble of boys feels lived-in and authentic, avoiding the "Hollywood kid" polish that often plagues similar films.
Direction and Technical Aspects: The Wet, Claustrophobic Frame
Charlie Polinger’s directorial vision is remarkably confident for a debut. He utilizes the water polo camp setting to create a visual language of "wetness" and "exposure." The cinematography often focuses on the physical toll of the sport: the panting breath, the red-rimmed eyes from too much chlorine, and the slippery, tangled limbs of the boys in the pool. This physicality translates into a sense of vulnerability. There is nowhere to hide in a pool, and Polinger uses this to heighten the film's inherent claustrophobia.
The visual composition often traps Ben in the center of the frame, surrounded by the blurred shapes of his peers, emphasizing his isolation even when he is part of a crowd. The editing is sharp, particularly during the "game" sequences, where the rhythm mimics a racing heartbeat. One of the most striking technical choices is the inclusion of body horror elements. The "skin-bubbling rash" mentioned in early reviews is handled with a visceral, "Raw"-like intensity that blurs the line between a psychological manifestation of guilt and a literal physical ailment. The production design perfectly captures the 2003 aesthetic: the specific cut of the shorts, the clunky technology, and the lack of digital escape routes, which forces the characters to face one another without the mediation of a screen.
Trailer The Plague (2025)
Music and Atmosphere: The Sound of Early Aughts Anxiety
The atmosphere of The Plague is a delicate balance of nostalgic comfort and impending doom. The film uses its 2003 setting to ground the audience in a world that feels familiar yet distant. The soundtrack features "Eighth Grade" level needle drops from the era, providing moments of levity that only make the subsequent shifts into thriller territory more jarring. However, it is the original score and sound design that truly do the heavy lifting.
The sound design emphasizes the mechanical and industrial noises of the camp: the hum of the pool filters, the rhythmic thud of a ball against a backboard, and the echoing splashes in a cavernous locker room. These sounds are often distorted to reflect Ben’s internal state, turning everyday noises into a threatening wall of sound. The mood is one of perpetual surveillance. The film successfully evokes the feeling that someone is always watching, even in the most private moments. This lack of privacy, combined with the lack of true companionship, creates a pressure cooker environment where the audio experience is just as important as the visuals in conveying the protagonist's crumbling psyche.
Strengths and Weaknesses
What works well:
- Authentic Adolescent Portrayal: The film captures the terrifying, awkward, and often cruel reality of being a twelve-year-old boy without any of the usual cinematic sugar-coating.
- Themes of Neurodivergence: The exploration of "masking" and the pressure to conform is handled with incredible nuance and empathy.
- Visceral Body Horror: The use of physical symptoms to represent psychological trauma is effective and haunting, especially for fans of the "new flesh" subgenre.
- Breakout Performances: Everett Blunck and Kenny Rasmussen deliver some of the best child-acting performances in recent memory.
- Atmospheric Tension: The 2003 setting and the claustrophobic camp environment create a sense of dread that never lets up.
What doesn't work:
- Graphic Intensity: Some of the body horror and visceral moments may be too intense for viewers who prefer a more traditional psychological thriller.
- Bleak Tone: The film offers very little in the way of traditional "hope," which might leave some audiences feeling emotionally drained rather than enlightened.
- Pacing of the Climax: While the build-up is perfect, the final confrontation leans into high-concept territory that might feel slightly disconnected from the grounded first half for some viewers.
Final Verdict: A Unique Strain of Reassurance
Rating: 4.5/5 stars
The Plague is a harrowing, essential piece of cinema that demands to be seen, even if it requires watching some scenes through your fingers. Charlie Polinger has crafted a debut that feels remarkably mature, tackling complex subjects like identity, neurodivergence, and the toxicity of "tradition" with a deft hand. It is a film that recognizes adolescence as a battleground where the greatest casualty is often the self.
This is a film for those who appreciate the psychological depth of "Eighth Grade" but want the visceral intensity of a horror movie. It will resonate deeply with anyone who has ever felt like they had to hide their true nature to fit in, or those who find themselves resenting their own "mask." It is a must-watch for fans of independent thrillers that aren't afraid to get their hands (and skin) dirty. However, if you are looking for a nostalgic, feel-good trip down memory lane or are particularly sensitive to body horror and depictions of bullying, this may be a "plague" you want to avoid. Ultimately, I left the theater feeling lighter, as if the film itself had granted me permission to unmask. It is a haunting, beautiful, and deeply human achievement.
Recommendation: If you enjoyed the visceral psychological tension of "Raw" or the social observation of "Lord of the Flies," put The Plague at the top of your list. It is a brilliant, if bruising, experience.
 Movie Review: A Brutal and Visceral Descent into the Pressure Cooker of Adolescent Cruelty and Hidden Identity){kind=link}
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