Hey! This isn’t a horror film at all. Well, I suppose it is, just not in the way I was thinking. You see a title like “The Plague,” you expect mass graves and maybe some undead folks. This was a movie about boys. Adolescent boys. Asshole adolescent boys.
The scene is Water Polo Camp. Water Polo Camps for BOYS, mind you. Apparently, girls don’t play water polo. Girls choose synchronized swimming. Yes, I know this is incorrect; explain that to writer/director Charlie Polinger. It is clear from the outset that the boys are dicks. This is obvious when these tweens go out of their way to humiliate “The Plague,” a peer distinguished only by the fact that he chooses to wear a swimshirt in the pool.
Our hero, for lack of a better word – and boy, oh, boy, do I want to use a different word- is Ben (Everett Blunk, my favorite physics constant), a standard wide-eyed newbie just trying to fit in. He has no pre-desire to alienate The Plague (Kenny Rasmussen), but does so when peer pressure dictates. The Plague (aka “Eli”) is a story unto himself. In addition to a weird rash, he almost goes out of his way to make sure 12- and 13- year-old boys will tease him; he speaks like an adult, he dances alone by himself, that is until he finds a cardboard cut-out of some sort of Betty Boop knock-off; then makes besties with “her.” Even his attempt to woo Ben to his side of the fence includes an out-of-the-blue dismemberment magic trick.
The taunting and teasing is merciless and continues long through the boner incident (yes, there is a public boner incident), which is off-putting no matter who you are.
Without going into further detail, there were females in this film. Plenty of them, in fact. While most-to-all of the action centers around this set of water polo boys, girls are at the same pool for Synchronized Swimming Camp. There’s even a dance where both sexes show up. And in a screenplay that makes Lord of the Rings look like it was written by Ms. Bechdel, The Plague offers none of them a voice. Not one. The females on screen are literal window dressing. There is exactly one woman who gets a speaking role in the film, and it is Ben’s mom. She gets two lines over-the-phone (we don’t ever see her face) when 
a frustrated Ben runs away to a diner. And she waffles, at that.
For a film that wants to highlight bullying, the perpetrators, the desire, the effects, and the harm, one might think that you’d do better than reduce the entirety of femaledom to: “I guess she’s pretty.” I suppose there’s a difference between bullying and misogyny, but … is there?
What should have been a striking condemnation of bullying turned more into a cringefest, equally split between semi-sympathetic emotional voyeurism and masculine-only optics. I loathe bullies. Hence, this film should have been a slam-sunk winner. Instead, The Plague was a weird study in male peer behavior combined with showing the artistic merits of underwater cinematography. The film turned out to be hard-to-watch and had strangely little to say about bullies and how to combat them.
There once was a swimmer named Ben
Trying so hard at camp to fit in
His patience would veer
When douchebags were near
Which is odd, cuz the film lacked any real women
Rated R, 98 Minutes
Director: Charlie Polinger
Writer: Charlie Polinger
Genre: Bullies, hidden misogyny
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: The guy who wrote and directed it
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Any female; people who cringe easily
