In the trailer for the Australian sci-fi movie Monolith, there’s a quick shot of a computer monitor. Someone is editing an audio file labeled “MYSTERY BRICKS.”
What a compelling phrase! Mystery bricks. So Fortean, so inherently unresolved. What those bricks are, and what they mean, are crucial to the central conundrum of Monolith, which is one of the best sci-fi movies in recent years.
Somewhere in a posh Australian neighborhood resides The Interviewer (Lily Sullivan). Recently ousted from her newspaper gig because of unethical behavior, The Interviewer has reluctantly agreed to host a podcast about strange things, pseudo-paranormal stuff, called “Beyond Believable.” She’s not particularly excited about the job until she receives an anonymous email about a weird black brick. After contacting the person mentioned in the email, The Interviewer finds herself embroiled in a puzzle with worldwide implications. Multiple people have received the bricks and suffered horrible consequences. Reticent to go outside but with a global platform from which to broadcast her discoveries, The Interviewer attempts to get to the bottom of the mystery.
Needless to say, shit gets weird. Revealing much more about the plot would do a disservice to viewers.
Monolith is essentially a one-woman show. As The Interviewer, Lily Sullivan (perhaps best known to North American audiences as the child-defending protagonist of Evil Dead Rise) is on the screen 98 percent of the time. As the story progresses, she grows more haggard and frightened, her paranoia making her cheeks as hollow as her constant nausea. With the story being dialogue-heavy, and interactions with other characters taking place through communication devices, The Interviewer is the only filter the audience has through which to interpret the unfolding events. Sullivan’s performance is incredible, excruciating and heartbreaking.
If there is another important character in Monolith, it is the house. A modern minimalist nightmare, the place is open and airy. Facing the woods is a wall of sliding glass doors. Electric window shades form a flimsy shield from the outside world. As The Interviewer descends into the depths of the mystery, the house begins to close in. Dishes pile up in the sink. Garbage overflows. Once bright areas become dark and foreboding. That IKEA paradise becomes infected and frightening, a reflection of The Interviewer’s inner torment.
Director Matt Vesely balances the film perfectly between wide shots in which The Interviewer is no more than a set element and close-ups of her tortured face. Monolith is gloriously sparse and detached until it decides to get right in your face, daring you to understand what is happening. Beautiful and horrific by turns, Vesely has crafted a gorgeously bothersome and intriguing film from Lucy Campbell’s lean and pointed script.
Good science fiction makes the viewer think. Great science fiction allows the viewer to think and feel. Monolith is a great science fiction movie. It’s hard not to become emotionally attached to The Interviewer and her plight. Even with the growing menace of the potentially cosmic mystery bricks, Monolith remains grounded in reality. There are no spaceship battles, no robots or Praxis-ring explosions.
Monolith understands that the greatest unexplored territories aren’t out there in distant galaxies. They are much closer, inside our minds and hearts, where the true mysteries reside. In many ways, we are aliens to ourselves. That realization is what makes Monolith a stunner of a film, entrancing and haunting.
Monolith is available in theaters and on digital from February 16, 2024, from Well Go USA.
