‘Wealth is finite’ seems to be a trend at TIFF this year, with movies like Parasite and even Knives Out having characters that, in order to achieve financial security, see themselves forced to take someone down from the metaphorical socioeconomic ladder. Galder Gaztelu-Irrutia’s The Platform takes that concept and makes it literal, in a grotesque, thrilling, and quite funny movie about a giant vertical prison and a massive tray with enough food for all prisoners that gets sent down floor to floor, with the tray being picked clean by the time it reaches the bottom.
We first meet Goreng (Iván Massagué) as he’s waking up in a cold, gray cell lit by bright blue lights, with no decorations and a giant hole in the middle of the floor and the ceiling, connecting their cell in level 48 with the countless others in a prison they call The Pit. He is welcomed by his new cellmate Trimagasi (Zorion Eguileor) who explains how things work around their new home. Every day of the month, a massive pile of food featuring every meal imaginable is lowered down from the top level down to the bottom. If you’re at the top you get the feast of your life; the lower down you are, the less food you get, with the lower levels resorting to other sources of nutrition. There is enough food for every single prisoner, but when Goreng dares suggest they portion out the food for the levels below, Trimagasi laughs at his proposition, calling him a communist. Instead, the old Trimagasi is happy eating the scraps he gets, and spit on the rest of the food to feel powerful about his position. His reasoning being that they’d do the same to him, and every month they may have a chance to, since every survivor gets assigned a new level at random at the end of the month – no matter your behavior.
Credit should go to screenwriters David Desola and Pedro Rivera who, together with Gaztelu-Irrutia, masterfully wave exposition with world building so as to not overwhelm the audience with information, but reveal new layers of the maze little by little – usually through hilarious dialogue delivered by Eguileor. The first act of the movie is dialogue-heavy, which makes sense given the original plan to release The Platform as a stage play, but the chemistry and banter between Eguileor and Massagué is palpable, and you can’t help but wish you could stay with these two characters for longer before the story descends into chaos and bloodshed. Eguileor gives a nasty and delightful performance that is at times over-the-top supervillain, and at times a sweet and tender old man who might have dreams of becoming Hannibal Lecter. Massagué, on the other hand, carries the emotional weight of the movie on his shoulders, which he manages to do while also being able to handle the more grotesque elements of the movie as well as the little but effective action we see.
Though we mostly stay confined in one location, the production design of The Platform makes the most of its gray box set-piece. The Pit comes to life mostly through the disgusting shots of the food coming down the platform, with dirty fingers stuffing mouths with all kinds of food in extreme close-ups. The film also manages to make every level feel a bit different from the other, even if they’re literally the same set.
The Platform could have easily been another movie about how the rich suck and how we should eat them all. Instead Gaztelu-Irrutia is interested in exploring how the poor devour each other and our seemingly innate inability to be good without incentive or threat. Though it is obviously seen through the eyes of someone who believes in capitalism, the movie doesn’t necessarily try to point fingers at anyone and say that there’s only one right way to do things. What the movie is really interested in is holding a mirror in front of the audience and asking what you would do in that situation. What would you do if you found yourself in level 1 and how would you act if you were in level 200? The message isn’t what matters, the movie argues, but how you deliver your message. Will you threaten people to follow you? Or make them think it was their idea to follow you?
The Platform takes full advantage of its isolated setting and small cast to instead focus on a high concept, a tight script, and sharp dialogue that will make you laugh as often as it will make you think. This is a funny, heartfelt, at times disgusting, yet also thought-provoking sci-fi thriller that reminds of Bong Joon-ho’s Snowpiercer, but with way better food.
