The world in the latest Netflix release, The Platform, is a cruel and unforgiving one. However, the horrors of that world is very much rooted in struggles that are all too real and relatable. The setup is simple. In a place called “The Pit” or the “Vertical Self-Management Center” as its owners like to put it, each person is randomly paired up per floor, and they will wake up on a new floor with a new partner after a month. In this solitary space, a platform filled with all sorts of food is lowered down and stays for a brief moment on each floor before going to the floor below.
As you can imagine, the problem comes when the folks who are higher up eat more than their fair share of the food, leaving nothing more than scraps as the platform continues to go down. Theoretically, there is enough food to nourish everyone in the pit, but since no one seems to take the needs of the lesser fortunate into consideration, many of the people in the lower levels are forced to take desperate actions to stay alive, or perhaps give up entirely.
This is the situation that our lead, Goreng (Ivan Massagué), finds himself in. Unlike others in the pit, he volunteered to take part, and brought a copy of Don Quixote to read and pass the time. He initially wakes up on level 48 with Trimagasi (Zorion Eguileor), an old man who revels in his position, looking down upon the people below him, just as he experienced himself. Goreng is understandably disgusted by Trimagasi’s behavior, and the way he rationalizes the inherent flaws of the system in place at the pit, which is one that does not reward acts of charity and goodness.
As Goreng wakes up on a different floor, he encounters different people who sort of touch on different ideologies. One who is a part of the system itself, which allows for certain privileges, and another who has his mind set on revolution. The film isn’t particularly subtle about its themes of the dehumanizing effects of capitalism, class disparity, and class solidarity – or the lack thereof, but writers David Desola & Pedro Rivero and director Galder Gaztelu-Urrutia bring a surprising amount of nuance in the way they explore every facet of this fairly simple idea, especially through the various encounters that Goreng faces with each change in the environment.
The film isn’t just a surreal social parable, though. It leans heavy into genre territory as it goes along. At first, you are just disgusted by the way people devour the food, which is often already displayed as messy leftovers. It’s unpleasant and gross to look at. But once the blood starts spilling, the film shows it means business. The violence is mean, it’s bloody, and it packs a punch. It pulls the characters into places where they would not have expected to see themselves, and it doesn’t shy away from some shocking and grisly imagery in order to get its point across.
The performances in The Platform are strong considering the limited characterization. This is a case of character being second to metaphor, which works fine enough for a film like this. It is a film that wants to make its message clear, and it will use any cinematic means necessary to get that point through. While taking a super literal approach to its themes might just seem obvious, there is a lot of earnestness and passion behind it, as well as some genuinely engaging and thrilling filmmaking to make it worth a watch. I’m sure its themes and ideas will resonate with many, especially now while so many are under self-quarantine because of the COVID-19 outbreak. It’s a gnarly experience, but it’s one I dug quite a bit.