The Plague

For most of us, while we were in school, we were either the one who bullied someone or the one who was bullied. This isn’t from a scientific study, but from personal experience — and even with that, I feel confident in saying it’s true. Some might argue that bullying is some sort of rite of passage that shapes who we become in adulthood. I actually think there’s some truth to that, since once a bully, you’re often always a bully. But really, this is just a long way of saying bullying is bad, and The Plague is here to remind us just how bad.

Ben (Everett Blunck) is attending a water polo camp for the first time after moving from Boston. Like any new kid, he tries to fit in and gravitates toward the group that seems to be having the most fun. Not long after he sits down, another boy named Eli (Kenny Rasmussen) joins the table, prompting the others to leap up and run away screaming. Confused, Ben follows them, and once they settle again, he asks what just happened. One of the boys explains that Eli has “The Plague” — their cruel nickname for his skin condition. The group, led by Jake (Kayo Martin), has made Eli an outcast. Wanting to belong, Ben goes along with them, but he also secretly starts talking to Eli, even befriending him. When Eli asks Ben to apply some cream on his back, he does — but in doing so, he paints a target on himself. Soon Ben is accused of having “The Plague” too, and he finds himself in an uncomfortable spiral that could explode at any moment.

Written and directed by Charlie Polinger, The Plague begins innocently enough but slowly drifts into madness, fueled by Polinger’s use of diary entries from his own youth. That choice makes the film feel organic and unformulaic, evoking the awkward, volatile reality of growing up. The writing, however, is only part of what pulls you in — the sound design and cinematography also play vital roles, making the experience both captivating and terrifying.

The Plague is a dark journey into adolescence, one that can easily trigger anxiety with its chilling atmosphere. The tension builds steadily thanks to immersive sound work that puts you right in the middle of it all. Polinger strikes a nerve as he dissects the emotions of adolescent boys, capturing feelings that will resonate, albeit uncomfortably, with many viewers. At the center is Ben, and Blunck plays his self-preservation instincts perfectly as he slides into a relatable kind of manic. Add in the work of cinematographer Steven Beckon and Polinger’s framing of the kids’ environment, and it becomes nearly impossible to look away.

Polinger pulls you back to that age when you were thirteen, when you can’t help but recognize these characters — feeling for them, and hating them, sometimes both at once. And while you might be able to point to the kids who started it all, the film still extends empathy toward each of them, leaving room for hope in the story. Few films have captured this turbulent time of life so honestly, and with The Plague, Polinger delivers something simply unforgettable.