CONSPIRACY THEORY. Ultimately leads nowhere

Some time ago, Umberto Eco—a philosopher, writer, and keen observer of culture, well known to many—reportedly said at one of his press conferences that he believed more in the conspiratorial practice of history than in theory itself. His comment, meant to be tongue-in-cheek, referred to the strong influence of conspiracy theories on culture. Yet it inadvertently suggested that, according to Eco, every conspiracy might contain a grain of truth. In another interview, the same author noted that we all harbor a tendency toward paranoia—justified or not. The question is only whether we allow it to take control of us. Jerry, the protagonist played by Mel Gibson in the 1997 film Conspiracy Theory, has almost completely surrendered to his obsession.

One could even say that in this particular case, Gibson broke with his usual on-screen persona: instead of his typical grounded hero, he transformed himself into a jittery paranoiac who behaves as if he had swallowed The Protocols of the Elders of Zion whole, seeing global conspiracies everywhere. Unfortunately for him, one of those conspiracies turns out to be real. He sets his sights on the beautiful Julia Roberts, who plays an employee of the Department of Justice, and urges her to listen to him and share in his obsession. At first, she treats him as a harmless crank, but a sudden plot twist—Jerry becoming the victim of assault and torture—opens her eyes. From then on, the two must face the onslaught of a shadowy organization threatening their lives because of the inconvenient knowledge they possess.

Richard Donner’s 1997 film is an action movie—at least in theory. In practice, its constant attempts at humor and lighter tones work against it. This, in my view, is its main flaw. Conspiracy Theory could have been sharp and provocative, but instead it became overly smooth, catering to safe emotions. The moral of the story ultimately boils down to a standard love story in which affection—though born in pain—overcomes all obstacles.

I expected something else from such a striking and evocative title, but considering the director, who has always avoided darkness and intensity in favor of humor, I shouldn’t be surprised. Conspiracy theories, however, are a far deeper subject. In our culture, people who believe in them are often seen as candidates for psychiatric institutions. Yet history tells a different story—there have been conspiracies that turned out to be real (the Watergate scandal being a prime example). It’s amusing, then, when Jerry, in one scene, claims it’s obvious that Oliver Stone works for the Bush family—because in a way, this “revelation” found an odd echo years later with the release of W. in 2008, a film seen by many as a tribute to the then-President of the United States.

But let’s be honest—most conspiracy theories can be safely filed under the category of fairy tales, spun either by disturbed minds constantly seeing guilt in others while remaining blind to their own, or by interest groups eager to steer the direction of public unrest. These are, of course, only my personal reflections, shaped less by Donner’s film itself and more by years of observing the phenomenon. The 1997 film is one-dimensional, presenting conspiracies in the most stereotypical way possible. The protagonist is portrayed as a paranoid caricature—something for which Gibson himself bears some responsibility, as he clearly struggles with this new type of role.

What I missed was a dialogue—a genuine intellectual exchange that would stimulate critical thinking. An action film tackling such a rich topic, crucial for public health and social awareness, should act as a guide to the world of conspiracy theories: one that clearly condemns flat-earthers, yet still listens to those who observe historical patterns in political events. Donner’s film, however, ends up reinforcing stereotypes, lacking the courage to put uncomfortable facts under the microscope and create space for meaningful discussion. This could have been done even within the limitations of the action genre, which, as we know, demands a constant forward drive in the plot.

Conspiracy Theory is, then, much like its protagonist’s paranoia: it makes a lot of noise, firing off countless suggestions, but ultimately leads nowhere and is taken seriously by no one.