When I saw the Spanish science fiction satire The Platform (El Hoyo, Gaztelu-Urrutia, 2019) at the Toronto International Film Festival last September, my expectations were joyfully subverted. I had expected it to be a preachy film with shallow social commentary. Instead, the film was thoroughly entertaining, original, and profound. Although the 9am press and industry screening was not even half full, the audience (myself included) laughed, screamed, and swore loudly at the film’s many darkly funny and disturbing moments.
Set in a near future where people can stay in a prisonlike complex for a period of time in exchange for perks, The Platform follows two cellmates (Iván Massangué and Zorion Eguileor) as they do their time. The complex is a tower with a cell on each floor, with every cell having a hole in the center. Once a day, a platform full of delicious food descends the tower, stopping on each floor for a few minutes. During that time, the cellmates can eat as much as they want. As such, the people at the top of the tower get to eat their fill, while those at the bottom are lucky if they get scraps.
While the social allegory of The Platform may not be subtle, it does not come off as preachy either. This is thanks to the film’s grimly comic tone. The actors deliver tongue-in-cheek performances, but they also nail the emotional beats of the stories. As such, no matter how ridiculous and grim it gets at times, The Platform always retains a sense of comical surrealism that keeps things relatively light. The score’s use of string, percussion, and electronic sounds creates a soundscape that is at times eerie, and at others almost cartoonish. For the most part, the film’s color palette is composed of blues and blacks, creating a cold and sterile atmosphere that complements the grim subject matter. However, when this switches to bright greens or reds in a few key scenes, the jarring effect is used to elicit a sense of nightmarish horror. These are then quickly followed by a tonal switch in the form of a funny line of dialogue or a quick edit or lighting change, bringing back levity to the situation. This is a film of contrasts: the subject matter is awfully grim, but the tone is equal parts serious and irreverent.
Another element that makes The Platform so enjoyable is its creative use of minimal resources. For the most part, the film ostensibly takes place on one set: the cell in which the occupants reside. Through blocking, lighting, and set-dressing, the cell is made incredibly interesting and detailed, to the point where it almost becomes a character in itself. This is even without mentioning the mesmerizing use of the titular platform. Each month, the cellmates are placed on a different level, so that sometimes they live near the top and have easy access to food, and at other times they are near the bottom and hardly get any food. At different levels, the platform appears either full of beautiful dishes of meats, salads, and cakes, or as a mess of broken dishware, bones, and gristle.
As it lowers, the platform appears to move in the air, not suspended by anything. The effect is eerily beautiful, but also sinister: on this slab of cold cement lie the means of sustenance for everyone in the tower. If these people are able to share, perhaps they will all be able to survive. However, most people seem unwilling to cooperate, and instead gorge themselves with as much food as possible when they are on the top.
In terms of its social message, The Platform does not offer simple or easy answers, but instead suggests a multitude of possible ones. While it is a rather bleak film that portrays people with good intentions doing bad things, it does also have a faint glimmer of hope. The system of the tower may be broken and oppressive toward its occupants, but these people still have the agency to subvert that system. However, they not only have to believe in their ability to fight the system, but they also need to have the will to carry it out.
Author Biography
Étienne Fillion-Sauvé is a fourth-year undergraduate student at the University of Alberta’s Faculty of Arts, majoring in film studies and minoring in anthropology. His interests in film include realism, science fiction, and cult films. He has two cats, Iona and Evie, who are very dear to him.
Film Details
The Platform (2019)
Spain
Director Galder Gaztelu-Urrutia
Runtime 94 minutes
