‘Iron Lung’ Film Review: Markiplier Probes Inner and Outer Space in Sleeper Video-Game Adaptation

Last week’s movie conversation was all about a certain very high-priced vanity documentary with a ginormous promotional budget. But that attention-magnet did not win the weekend box office, nor did “Shelter,” the crown going to a second heavily-advertised mainstream thriller, “Send Help.” However, it just narrowly beat out a new release that was on almost no one’s radar — except, it turns out, a huge online fanbase. 

“Iron Lung” is a first theatrical feature endeavor for Mark Fischbach aka Markiplier, a YouTube personality who’s grown a massive following largely on the basis of videos in which he comments on games as he plays them. It’s not the most sophisticated act, but you can see how his amiable, antic personality (plus a dulcet speaking voice) might accrue loyal viewers. They turned out in bulk for a self-financed movie with a marketing outlay of precisely zilch. It was initially expected to open on just a small number of screens, before advance demand increased that number to over 3000 before opening. Now Fischbach is the writer-director-star of the No. 2 movie in the U.S. — at a production cost that’s a minuscule, low-seven-digits fraction of his nearest competitors.

It’s a success story that should cheer those who fear our era of corporate mergers and dwindling resources could spell an end to independent filmmaking. That’s a narrative arguably more inspiring than what’s actually onscreen, as “Lung” is an enterprising but overlong, murky sci-fi suspense effort. Duly based on David Szymanski’s 2022 video game, it faithfully replicates its conceptual limitations — confining protagonist and viewer within a midget submarine — to effectively grim, oppressive effect. But there’s not a lot of plot here, certainly not enough to sustain a full two hours. And those previously unacquainted with the game are likely to make little sense of the few things that do happen. 

Fischbach plays Simon, our hapless hero, who’s been incarcerated on a moon colony for an indistinct past act of destruction (which he claims was an accident), and is now given a chance at salvation via a one-man mission in the titular submersible. Just what he’s meant to find or do at an “ocean of blood’s” bottom is unclear. Nor is it certain that the brusque superiors who’ll only address him as “Convict” will actually honor their promise of freedom after he completes that vague task. The rusty bucket he’s in doesn’t seem very sturdy, and its technology wouldn’t impress aquatic explorers of the 1960s: He’s able to glimpse what’s outside only in brief, low-res still images, while reliant on paper maps of the underwater terrain. 

In this largely off-screen future, apparently humanity has created space settlements, which are thrown on life support when a mysterious event called “The Quiet Rapture” seemingly obliterates all stars and habitable planets. This initial burst of explication (delivered via an opening voiceover) is somewhat obscured by a sound mix favoring composer Andrew Hulshult’s almost incessant score. Later audio intel from subsidiary figures is likewise frequently rendered unintelligible by distortion, staticky transmission, etc. 

Ergo it’s often even more puzzling to the audience than it is to Simon just what he’s discovering, or being subjected to. When not getting tossed around the sub by turbulence, he spies ominous skeletal “alien shit” in the deep, locates an abandoned prior vessel like his own, becomes privy to the dire warnings of a dead predecessor, inadvertently irradiates some surface crew, has brief childhood flashbacks, and generally tries to stay alive. His oxygen supply keeps going down, while blood dripping from the ceiling suggests this container is less than airtight. The perils are plentiful, if seldom very vivid, as we’re stuck in this claustrophobic crate with him. He grows increasingly uncertain “what’s real anymore.” Whether he’s hallucinating or not carries little import, unfortunately, when the things he might or might not be seeing/hearing aren’t all that scary, or even interesting.

Fischbach, who looks-wise is in the general wheelhouse of Adam Driver or Keanu Reeves, does just fine as an actor in this non-jokey context. But as director, he risks the charge that he’s let a fuzzy story stretch out way too long just to throw his star more histrionic rope. “Iron Lung” is survival simulation game with very long odds, basically guaranteeing the player’s doom. But here the viscous-soaked conclusion feels so bereft of meaning, many viewers will just what if any point the whole proceedings had. Their repetitiousness has already eroded patience too much for an ambiguous ending to satisfy.

Nonetheless, “Lung” impresses in many respects, including its design contributions — as narrow a gamut as they’re allowed to run. Cinematographer Philip Roy can hardly avoid over-emphasis on closeups or shaky-cam, but the often dark imagery (Simon gets granted only brief cabin illumination) is resourceful enough. Likewise Fischbach’s editing, which closing credits reveal got assistance from no less than six “additional” editors. They do a strong job of maintaining an anxious rhythm, though after a while you can’t help realizing this script would have played considerably better at 90 minutes or less. A major atmospheric contributor is Hulshult’s alternately rumbling and pounding score, even if its impact comes at the cost of burying some verbiage here. 

A whole lotta gooey blood (albeit scant violence) aside, “Iron Lung’s” R rating seems to derive primarily from Simon continually dropping the f-bomb. For an ostensible sci-fi horror movie from a sci-fi horror game, it could have used a wee more actual horror content.