By Lauren Perera

Adam McKay’s The Big Short (2015) operates not only as a narrative explanation of the 2008 financial crisis, but as an affective experience shaped by what Steven Shaviro defines as post-cinematic affect. Rather than prioritising classical storytelling, character psychology, or narrative immersion, the film works through intensity, rhythm, and emotional modulation, producing responses that are felt as much as they are understood.

While it’s packed with information about subprime mortgages, credit default swaps and other Wall Street jargon, what really makes it memorable is the way it hits you on a sensory and emotional level. The editing style is a big part of this. Instead of smooth, traditional continuity, The Big Short uses jump cuts, sudden cutaways, celebrity explainers, and characters talking straight to the camera. These moments break the flow on purpose. Rather than pulling you deeper into a fictional world, they constantly remind you that you’re watching a constructed explanation of a very real disaster. This kind of post-continuity editing is less about keeping things seamless and more about keeping things fast, disruptive, and attention-grabbing. “In post-continuity films, unlike classical ones, continuity rules are used opportunistically and occasionally, rather than structurally and pervasively.” (Shaviro, 2016). 

All of this creates a restless emotional experience. The film swings rapidly between comedy, anger, and disbelief. The audience is constantly moved between humour, outrage and explanation, creating an emotional experience that reflects the volatility of the financial system. 

According to Shaviro, post-cinematic media works by creating emotional intensity and sensory overload, and The Big Short does exactly that. The quick pacing, loud music, and visual chaos mirror the unstable financial system it’s criticising.

Instead of offering emotional closure, the film leaves you buzzing with frustration and unease. You don’t walk away feeling comforted, you walk away feeling wired, cynical, and overwhelmed. In that sense, The Big Short doesn’t just explain the crisis. It makes you feel the speed, confusion, and moral insanity of the system that caused it.

Rather than resolving the affective intensity, the films ending sustains it, the closing title cards, Mark Baum’s withdrawal from the industry and the repackaging of the names of risky financial practices show that there is no moral closure. In Shaviro’s terms, this lack of crisis is not presented as something finished, but as something ongoing. the viewer is left in a continuing mood of anxiety. 

References

Steven Shaviro, ‘Post-Continuity: An introduction’, Post-Cinema: Theorising 21^st Century Film, 51-64