In any case, the film was all but dumped during its US release and sold off to Netflix for international rights, a move that put the film in profit (barely) while relieving Paramount of the burden of figuring out a clever way to build interest in a movie that didn't have any obvious hooks. I mean, aside from the fact that it's a haunting, hypnotically powerful film that seems to stir deep introspection in anyone who watches it with an open mind and brings their own point-of-view to the experience. I briefly wrestled with whether or not to give this one the green light because any film as generally beloved by critics as "Annihilation" cannot be said to be "unloved" as a piece of art. But as a commercial property, absolutely, it was unloved—treated with indifference, which is worse in some ways than contempt, because at least the person treating your work with contempt expresses a point of view on it. Ask anyone who's seen "Annihilation" twice, three times or more (I had my fourth viewing recently) and you'll come away thinking, as I did, that Paramount left money on the table. Even after having its commercial legs broken by the studio, the movie remains in release, still playing on a few screens as we publish this, and has managed to make more money in the US alone than Garland's last film, the different-but-equally-superb "Ex Machina," made all over the world.







