What Soderbergh and writer Scott Z. Burns have come up with here will set hypochondriacs running for the hills. When Mears dives into the explanation of R-Naughts (viral reproduction rates) and fomites, one can’t help but feel their skin really start to crawl.
Soderbergh’s cast brings their A-game, of course, but with this ensemble you would expect nothing less. A few minor quibbles are that Cliff Martinez’ score feels slightly out of place. Although most of the time it is what feeds the film’s pacing so for the most part it does its job well. And Cotillard’s storyline adds nothing to the proceedings aside from getting to look at her, and it seems like they didn’t quite know when to end the film or on what note. It’s nice to see a film not reliant upon nausea inducing shaky-cam. Although maybe Soderbergh figured that would be just a little too much considering the plot. In the end, fall has officially arrived and not a moment too soon before winter brings along its never ending cold and flu season. And if Contagion has its way, you’ll think twice before you touch that door handle on your way out of the theater.
Photos courtesy Warner Bros. Pictures