CLUB ZERO: A Satisfying Serving Of Satire

Austrian auteur Jessica Hausner (Amour Fou, Little Joe) is back with a new movie that takes pointed aim at the dual concepts of self-care and self-sacrifice. Starring Mia Wasikowska in a delightfully bizarre performance as a teacher introducing her privileged pupils to the concept of “conscious eating,” Club Zero focuses on a group of students full of youthful idealism and the desire to improve the world around them—a desire that is hijacked by Wasikowska’s character and transformed into something far more sinister. Warning: this film features many scenes of disordered eating that are discussed below.

Eat the Rich?

The film opens with the arrival of Miss Novak (Wasikowska), the newest staff member at an elite international boarding school that seems to exist in its own visually striking bubble, set apart from the trials and tribulations of the real world. But that isn’t to say that the students—the majority of which come from substantial wealth—aren’t preoccupied with real issues, such as reducing their carbon footprints and eliminating wasteful consumption from their lives, in between dance classes and trampoline practice. They want to change the world, they claim; they just don’t know how.

That’s where Miss Novak comes in. A major proponent of a lifestyle called “conscious eating,” Miss Novak has been hired to teach a small class of interested students—some for environmental reasons, others for weight loss reasons, and others just to get the extra credit necessary to keep a scholarship—what it’s all about. At first, her ideas sound pretty logical; she encourages her students to focus on mindful consumption by eating more slowly, taking deep breaths before savoring each bite, and practicing meditation to eliminate unnecessary cravings. But then Miss Novak’s teachings take a much darker and more disturbing turn from basic health and wellness techniques into what is essentially disordered eating, convincing her students that eating as little as possible is for the betterment of mind, body, and planet.

Soon, the relationship between the students and Miss Novak bears more of a resemblance to that between a cult leader and her disciples, all of whom are desperate to one-up each other and prove they are her most devoted followers and the most willing to do what it takes for the greater good. (One of her students already suffers from bulimia, which only adds to her willingness to embrace such extreme ideas.) So when Miss Novak introduces an even more subversive concept—the idea of living without eating at all—the students jump at the chance to show her that they’re worthy of belonging to the elusive Club Zero.

The Hunger

The body horror lurking at the heart of Club Zero is at first masked by layers of style—bone-dry dialogue delivery that echoes Yorgos Lanthimos, a retro color palette reminiscent of Wes Anderson—but eventually comes to the fore, culminating in a truly disgusting scene involving some vomit that no doubt spoke strongly to the sensibilities of Ruben Östlund, who headed the jury at the Cannes Film Festival when this film was selected to compete for the Palme d’Or. (Personally, I felt this particular moment of shock value was unnecessary, and dumbed down what is otherwise smart, though certainly not subtle, satire.) The sparse, percussive score by Markus Binder helps gradually build tension within this quirky atmosphere, ensuring that even in the earliest, most humorous stages of the film, there is an underlying layer of ominousness to proceedings.

Wasikowska, who has evolved into one of the most interesting actresses of her generation, is the perfect person to play such an enigmatic, unusual, but strangely appealing figure as Miss Novak. With her buttoned-up polo shirts and stick-straight bobbed hair, her philosophy of zero waste carries over into her physical being; there are no frills to be found anywhere on her person. She speaks with a strange lilt that doesn’t seem to be her natural Australian accent but was impossible for me to identify as any other one in particular, making her seem almost like an extraterrestrial who has landed at the school with the sole purpose of converting followers to her cause. The students, naturally, swallow it hook, line, and sinker, starved as they are for anything that can give their lives meaning and importance.

The natural teenage desire to be part of something, and to be acknowledged by your peers—”you want to be seen” says one character to another—makes it all the easier for the students to fall in line behind Miss Novak. So dedicated are they to her cause that they don’t even notice how nonsensical their actions become, such as sitting down with a full plate of food at lunch only to make a great show of not actually eating it; if you’re so concerned about wasteful consumption and sustainability, how can you not see how wasteful throwing away this uneaten food is? But when you have the natural self-absorption of a young person who has not experienced enough of the wider world, you’re all the more likely to succumb to such an insular idea of revolution instead of real radical action. The students’ starved, sallow faces are held high with pride, badges of honor that prove to everyone around them how much they’ve sacrificed—but for what? Who have they really helped apart from their own egos?

Watching Club Zero, I kept thinking of the celebrities and corporations who buy carbon offsets but don’t change their wasteful behavior in any truly meaningful way, such as not taking private jets everywhere; it’s these largely symbolic sustainability trends that do more good for someone’s public image than the state of the planet that Hausner skewers throughout her film. At the same time, with the world spiraling into a maelstrom of destruction, who can really blame Miss Novak’s students for feeling so powerless that they resort to radically changing one of the only things that appears to be within their power? The largely inexperienced young actors playing the students aren’t all brilliant performers, but they are believable, and even relatable. Meanwhile, the adult characters who aren’t played by Wasikowska, such as school administrator Sidse Babett Knudsen and annoyed father Mathieu Demy, are portrayed as largely ineffectual and lacking in understanding, making it even easier for the audience to see why Wasikowska is so appealing to her students. (She’s also much closer to their age, lending her the aura of a kindly older sibling or mentor who actually understands them.)

Conclusion

Much has been said about how Club Zero portrays disordered eating; as someone who has struggled with body dysmorphia verging on disordered eating throughout my life, particularly when I was a teenager, I personally found the satirical eye that Club Zero turns on this behavior to be helpful. In showing how ridiculous Miss Novak and her students sound while preaching the gospel of conscious eating—when Miss Novak says “it frightens people when you question their truth” to convince her students that it is possible to live without food, one hears the echo of every anti-vax conspiracy theorist in her words—I was better able to see how ridiculous my own behavior has often been when it comes to diet and body image. The film is obviously not endorsing disordered eating—to claim so is to have missed the point entirely—yet it does portray it in such detail that some audience members may still be triggered by the film; if you suspect you may be one of them, you would do well to stay away. Club Zero is often disturbing and always engaging, but it’s certainly not for everyone.

Club Zero opens in theaters in the U.S. on March 15, 2024.