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On the page, the fact that the characters sound like the author somehow deepens the ominous charm of the spell that he casts. Onscreen, it’s too weird for words. Nevertheless, even if you grow impatient with “White Noise”—an intimate black comedy that dreams of becoming an epic—stick with it, for the sake of the end credits.

There is something detached about the film, a succession of moods and notions that are often quite interesting but that never entirely cohere. “White Noise” is an expression of sincere and admirable faith. I just wish I could believe in it.

White Noise is a book filled with big ideas... but Baumbach’s adaptation rarely articulates any of them with any real sense of the outside world without resorting to the easy exaggerations that DeLillo peddled in the name of satire, which, while maybe fresh back in 1985, ring completely hollow today. Even if Baumbach is self-aware enough to recognize the dated nature of his material, it only ever manifests in aloof and obvious ways.

[Driver, Gerwig, and the rest of the cast] all have to reckon with dialogue whose satirical fizz and deadpan rhythms don't often translate to anything resembling real life, and a book whose brilliance stubbornly resists any other medium but itself.

It all seems a little unreal, by design—everything feels signaled rather than felt, which is true of DeLillo’s book, too. The effect is distancing to the point of smugness... It’s hard to know exactly what Baumbach is going for here, other than perhaps reminding us that the key to living is just going about your life. But you probably don’t need two hours and 16 minutes’ worth of movie to tell you that.

Baumbach’s comedy doesn’t diminish his characters nor the seriousness of their concerns. Just because they speak in cliches and find happiness in supermarkets doesn’t make them less than us: it makes them just like us.

White Noise is certainly uneven — wildly so, probably by design — but it’s also never boring, always eager to throw something new at the viewer, and it’s eager to entertain. I never imagined I’d laugh so hard while watching a movie adaptation of Don DeLillo’s White Noise.

[White Noise] is stippled with dizzying moments and inspired set pieces that give out pops of pleasure like bubble wrap at regular intervals across its 136 minutes... But mostly, watching these characters tease out their problems is fun but from a far remove, and satire at such a safe distance starts not to really feel like satire anymore.

There is something impenetrable about DeLillo’s work that Baumbach can’t quite crack. The story’s themes... are clearly stated, but there’s little passion pulsing beneath the thesis. It’s a respectful, and respectable, film to a fault; it’s hard to locate the animating why of White Noise.

For this usually understated filmmaker, it’s a madcap outlier, and often resembles an early Steven Spielberg film having a nervous breakdown... It’s combative stuff, and not all of it works... But if Netflix are pruning back their riskier output, we should be glad that this managed to slip out the door first.

Baumbach is ultimately too in sync with DeLillo for “White Noise” to escape from the shadow of its monolithic source material, as movie struggles to escape the hat on a hat sensation of that match between filmmaker and novelist, and often feels like the work of a third party who’s trying to imitate them both at once.

Baumbach has landed a sizeable white whale in his tremendously elegant and assured adaptation. His film amplifies not merely the book’s richness as a period piece... but how prescient it is about the fears of the present day... It is such a fascinating, invigorating spectacle.