Film Reviews

December 24, 2025

All of us have had at least one "Jake" in our lives, that smirking, insufferable bully who picked on us when we were kids, maybe physically harmed us, and/or steered others to follow his or her lead. Ultimately, "Jake" made us fearful, resentful, hurt, and angry to the point where we felt we had nowhere else to turn. "The Plague" presents a snapshot of a "Jake" situation so brutally honest that it makes our skin crawl, not unlike the rash the poor, woebegone protagonist develops on his upper body.

This is a quasi-autobiographical film that explicitly tells us its time and location are 2003 at the Tom Lerner Water Polo Camp, information that may seem supplemental or irrelevant at first but takes on greater meaning once we remember that prepubescent trauma is often seared into our memories, right down to the year and physical spaces in which it occurred. What's ironic is that even though the events of the film seem personal and specific to the characters, writer-director Charlie Polinger, who forged the screenplay out of his own pre-teen journal entries, is able to make them feel universal, which speaks not only to his storytelling abilities but also to the idea that this could, in fact, be anyone's story, which is sad but true.

"The Plague" follows 12-year-old Ben (Everett Blunck), who's one of about seven other boys his age at the camp, including the aforementioned Jake (Kayo Martin), who vacillates between being Ben's friend and nemesis. "Nemesis" may not be the right word, as it suggests a sort of comic book or James Bond-type playfulness, and there's nothing playful about the way Jake eventually treats Ben, which is not a spoiler because the film makes it clear early on what types of developments will transpire following Ben and Jake's first encounter. We instinctively know Jake is going to be trouble and that Ben should take caution with his words and behavior, or better yet, avoid Jake altogether. But if there's one thing this film knows, and it knows a lot, it is the dynamics among young boys, one of which is that simply ignoring your adversaries is easier said than done.

During their initial exchange, Jake makes fun of the way Ben says a certain word, and with Ben having recently moved from Boston and being new to the group, he's already in a vulnerable position. It's one of several effective scenes that gets us to recall that nerve-racking time of pre-adolescence, when one wrong word, one slight shift of face, or one roll of the eyes could spell disaster if taken the wrong way by our peers, which put us in a perpetual state of tension and paranoia that made us want to immediately correct for our social mistakes.

Another key aspect of childhood the film gets right is the relief kids feel when someone other than them is the target of abuse. In Ben's case, that's Eli (Kenny Rasmussen), who's not only short and stocky but also has a rash on his stomach and back, which makes him feel like he has to wear a shirt in the pool. Of course, the other boys call Eli's infection "the plague," and they purposely avoid touching him or welcoming him into their circle. One of the most heartbreaking yet relatable scenes takes place when everyone jumps up from their cafeteria chairs the moment Eli sits down, although Eli, who internalizes his emotions, carries on, no doubt because he's used to such vulgar treatment.

Without giving away too many other details, it's Ben's secret compassion for Eli, combined with his being new and different in his own ways—he's a vegetarian, for instance—that eventually results in Jake and the others turning on him, and despite having the support of the sympathetic coach (a typically sensitive and grounded Joel Edgerton, who also produced the film), poor Ben starts to crumble inside. There's hope that Ben has an ally in another boy named Tic Tac (Elliot Heffernan), who's also an outsider by virtue of being Black and English, when the latter returns his goggles, but things continue to grow harsher and grimmer. Soon, poor Ben starts to panic and even questions his own sanity. Is he beginning to see Eli's rash on himself? Is no one passing him the ball because they don't like him or is it all in his head? Did that beating in the middle of the night really just happen?

What's most striking about "The Plague" is its veracity. Everything that transpires feels not only within the realm of possibility in the film's own world, but also in the real world. Little about the people and events feels exaggerated or "movie"-ish, and we appreciate Polinger for not taking the narrative in the direction of easy horror, savagery, or false sentimentality. Despite its bleakness and a mildly sensational climax, "The Plague" has an authenticity it's not afraid to uphold, which hits us at our cores.

One could argue the filmmaking techniques lay the narrative metaphors on a little thick, but as soon as we think back on the painful perils of our junior high school years, when it often felt like we were alone and figuratively thrown into a deep, dark, pool, nearly naked, with just our dangling arms and legs keeping our heads above water, the symbolism becomes appropriate. Cinematographer Steven Breckon, production designers Chad Keith and Jason Singleton, and the sound design team chillingly capture the enclosure of the pool and the towering interiors of the school, specifically the dormitory. The cold blues of the underwater shots, the bright whites of the schools' floors and hallways, and the pitch blacks of the night scenes make us want squeeze ourselves tightly as we wonder how we ever navigated what felt like make-or-break situations, when our priorities were to prove ourselves worthy to our cohorts and to talk about topics we had little clue about at that age, such as sex. Adding to our anxiety is Johan Lenox's piercing score, featuring sharp, punctuating string and percussion instruments, which swarm in from all sides. On more than one occasion, we feel incentivized to run away like Ben does.

To be clear, "The Plague" isn't a horror movie, although it has horrific elements. Polinger and editors Henry Hayes and Simon Njoo assemble it more as a tumultuous yet still credible coming-of-age drama and thriller. The filmmakers delicately balance the glaring moments with equally powerful subtle ones, all as tension brews underneath. On the subtler side of things, we notice the simple close-up of Jake, with his infectious yet menacing smile, as he probes Ben on his speech and eating habits, and the hesitation and shame in Ben's voice when he calls home, desperately trying to hold it together but wanting to cry out for help. All these choices suggest Polinger is in complete command of what he wants us to take away, but he’s careful not to go too far because he knows we’re also bringing a lot of our own memories and baggage to the table.

As for the young actors, each is talented and pitch-perfect in his own right, and despite being the same age as their characters, they convince us they know the gravity of the material. They are keen on the fact that puberty and bullying are not straightforward, and that everyone going through it is simply trying to navigate it, often to a fault. There are those that invoke fear as a defense mechanism against their own insecurities, while there are others who must endure it. "The Plague" presents a well-rounded picture of this rocky road with truth and sensitivity, and it encourages us to not see any of its characters in simple terms of black and white.

After I saw the film, I asked my wife if the situations depicted in it are perhaps inevitable, if surviving bullying is some sort of rite of passage because bullying itself, at that age, may be an extension of human nature and not necessarily born out of personal hatred of one human being for another. Because all 12 and 13-year-olds are grasping with the onslaught of emotional and physical changes, is the fallout of these changes bound to come out in ways that are mean, nasty, and tantalizing toward others? The filmmakers know that answering this question is outside the scope of "The Plague," but what makes it so resonant and useful is that it stirs reflection. Watching it, it hopefully gets us to think about how much we've grown since we were Ben and Jake's age. Just the same, it may remind us how far we still have to go before we can make peace with those who tormented us, if we ever can.