In house number nine, an exhausted Gemma (Imogen Poots) sits on the floor. Clothes spin in the dryer behind her. In front of her, a boy (Senan Jennings) runs in circles and moves into and out of the frame. This seemingly benign scene encapsulates Vivarium, in which a young couple gets lured into a “forever home” in the community of Yonder. In this tract housing development, every home has the same design, the same mint shade of green, and the same fence and yard. And the perfectly spaced clouds are all shaped like… clouds. Gemma, her partner Tom (Jessie Eisenberg), and the odd nameless boy who comes to live with them are the only residents in Yonder. Most disturbing, every time Gemma and Tom try to get away, they end up back at number nine.
Vivarium, directed by Lorcan Finnegan, brings to mind The Truman Show (1998). However, in this case, the guinea pigs are completely alone and the viewer is just as in the dark as the them. Questions accumulate: What is this place? How will this couple get out? Who (or what) is watching them? “Number nine is not a starter home,” says the awkward salesman (Jonathan Aris) who takes them on a tour. “This house is forever.”
Where this film succeeds is in its placement of an ordinary (perhaps even dull) couple in an extraordinary circumstance, as well as in its exploration of how each of the two protagonists chooses to pursue answers: Tom becomes obsessed with digging a hole in their front yard. Gemma focuses on the boy, whose adult voice, mimicry, and inhuman scream grow increasingly grating to his caretakers. More than once, Gemma tells the freakish boy, “I am not your mother.”
There are some Lost-like things happening, from cryptic television broadcasts to indecipherable symbols. In one especially unsettling scene, the boy imitates someone he claims to have met within the neighborhood.
Both main actors offer performances that support the consequences of their situation. Poots’s resigned Gemma radiates the malaise that has taken over her life. Eisenberg, despite his reputation as a fast-talking comedy type, adequately portrays the deterioration of a normal guy – there are times when he appears downright menacing. Unfortunately, during a climactic scene, his performance wanes and end ups feeling mawkish.
Vivarium might stand as an extended metaphor for the young couples who get stuck in parenthood and find themselves in a condition where nothing excites and nothing changes. “Do you remember the wind?” says one character. “The wind was great.” The circle theme resurfaces at the film’s conclusion, which conveys a nihilistic message.—Douglas J. Ogurek ****