Director: Joe Lynch
Writer: Matias Caruso
Cast: Steven Yeun, Samara Weaving, Steven Brand
Art imitates life is a trite phrase many like to use when a movie they see or song they’ve heard vaguely reminds them of an event of their lives, and while the saying is indeed true in some cases, we tend to use it quite generally. However, that doesn’t stand to say that occasionally a piece of art will come around and so accurately depict the times in which we currently live, and we collectively, fittingly, utter the banal platitude. Even more seldom does a piece of art narrate our current position when that piece was released three years prior. I know, it’s so easy to state how accurately a movie predicted our future when we search for correct elements that serve our self-fulfilling prophecy, but watch 2017’s Mayhem and I promise you won’t be digging too deeply for your allegories.
Mayhem tell us about Derek Cho (Steven Yeun), a white-collar worker for a greedy corporation who is fired but can’t leave the building after a virus that shuts off people’s ability to control their inhibitions is detected. The quarantine leaves Cho and a client of his, Melanie Cross (Samara Weaving), to work together to seek virus-fueled retribution for Derek’s loss of his career and for Melanie’s loss of her home. This calls for an ultra-violent, darkly comedic rampage from the bottom to the top of the building that’s impossible to look away from.
The prophetic nature of Mayhem is absolutely striking. Each main player presents an obvious, yet compelling allegory to roles being played during the Covid-19 pandemic. The virus itself, called ID-7, is highly contagious, and spreads throughout the building in a matter of a few short hours, causing an eight-hour quarantine (not ten days as with Covid, but the story doesn’t allow for such a long timeline). Now, every person in the building is losing control, beating and killing each other—an intense commentary of the loss of logic during an unprecedented time (I think of people resorting to acts like urinating in a Verizon store just for being told to wear a mask in our current crisis). Derek and Melanie represent the expendable people in the middle and bottom respectively, trying to fight their own battles while frustratingly dealing with the common enemy at the top, a CEO so Trump-esque that the representation is undeniable even if it is accidental, from the indelible desire to retain power right down to the continuous and symbolic wielding of golf clubs. John Towers (Steven Brand) encapsulates the businessman’s evil in a way that makes him a prediction that we should’ve heeded had this movie not flown under so many radars.
I’m all about the representation in this film, especially in Samara Weaving’s depiction of Melanie Cross. She speaks for all the people struggling the most with the effects of the lower and middle class. She fights to keep her home by reluctantly joining forces with Derek, the only hope she’s got. As the virus takes effect on her, she becomes overjoyed by the ensuing violence around her. Not for a sick thrill of seeing blood, but for the catharsis of seeing a building full of people whose jobs are to apathetically ruin the lives of people like her crumbling under their own anger and destroying each other. Her delivery of comedic cynicism and playful infliction makes her a bullhorn for the pissed off majority that has grown fed up with being manipulated by the powerful. She gets the chance to stick it to the 1%. Her catharsis is relatable, and even though she ultimately gets Derek on board with her values, I can’t help but love her and her understandable lunacy. I’m here for Melanie Cross.
This is a bloody, graphic, and chaotic film that was shot with close attention to the details in the scenery. In several scenes we see long steady shots that travel throughout the offices while the chaos ensues all around. It’s all beautifully choreographed and the effects heighten the experience in a way that tap into our primal desire to aggressively approach the things that trouble us the most. We are creatures that are naturally driven by our aggression towards protecting our territory, which isn’t very different from a corporate environment. I’m not saying the violence is pleasant, or that violence itself is to be celebrated, but unlike many movies this graphic, the violence has commentary separate from that of the story, and that’s not a common thing. Mostly, it’s used to enhance the commentary, not to tell its own and I have to admire that.
Mayhem delivers a darkly comedic, violently cathartic look into a future it had no idea was coming. It reinforces our perspectives on corporate America and how the people at the top would deal with a crisis such as a virus outbreak. Watching it now for the first time, I can’t believe how on-the-nose it was and I’m glad to have been served some comedy in the process, because without it the prophecy would have been tough to swallow. Mayhem is a film worth seeing, and I suggest it for those of you looking for some release in these uncertain times, because it’s nice to fantasize and know you’re not alone.
Mayhem is available on Shudder, Vudu, Google Play, and Blu-Ray.