Chloe Grace Moretz as Abby Kodi Smit-McPhee as Owen Richard Jenkins as Thomas
Release Date
2010
Language(s)
English
Running Time
116 minutes
This is a hard movie for me to rate and I’ve struggled with coming up with a number for a long time. I initially saw the movie in 2011 and thought it was amazing. I was completely enamored and couldn’t stop thinking about it. It got me reading the Wikipedia page to find more information ,and I saw that it was a remake of a Swedish movie called Let the Right One In, which itself is based on a novel of the same name. I thought it’d be fun to see the original movie and read the book to see how the Reeves version compared. The process left me in a strange position. While the Reeves version is stellar in composition, it comes off feeling like a replica of the original movie with an English dub. There are slight changes in setting, the starting point the movie leaps off from, and the way the theme of growing up is handled, but it’s not enough to make the movie feel like something wholly unique (like Evil Deadvs The Evil Dead) .
For those of you unacquainted with the book or 2008 movie, the story follows an ostracized young child, Owen, who’s struggling to find his place in life. He’s bullied at school and can’t really relate the adults around him. Eventually a young “girl”, Abby, moves in next door. Unbeknownst to Owen, Abby’s actually a vampire. As the two interact more often, a budding friendship is born, and their lives are radically changed. Given that information, the opening shot of the movie feels completely out of place with audience expectations. It starts in on a disfigured individual who jumps to his death from a hospital building, leaving behind a note that says “I’m sorry Abby.” This initial scene sets the tone for the rest of the movie and tinges the experience with a more sinister sense of mystery. Who’s the person , how did they end up there, and why were they apologizing? It gives the movie a lot of action before the slower paced story kicks in and is one of the unique things Reeves did to spice up his adaptation.
Traditionally, coming-of-age stories are about trying to find your path and footing in the world. The unpredictable chaos of everything combined with hyper-active hormones leads to a sense of confusion and wonder. Trying to determine how characters will progress becomes part of the fun. This movie subverts that expectation and is another original Reeves move. Adults are reduced to mere outlines of human interaction. Owen is rarely shown interacting with them and when he does those moments are often reduced to trite conversations with little weight. Hell, in a move I really like, Reeves never shows Owen’s mom’s face. The absence of any positive adult influence makes the progression of Owens story easy to predict, so if you like trying to guess or interpret those types of the things, you may feel like the movie tells you too much. However, if you accept the conclusion, the movie takes on this cool surreal feeling. It’s almost poetic watching the foregone conclusion slowly play out.
Smit-McPhee and Moretz knock it out of the park and give the movie a real heart and spirit. Their chemistry as friends is genuinely touching to watch and reminded me of a lot of moments in my childhood. You can see them warm up to each other, and because the movie takes its time, the subsequent places they go feel emotionally satisfying. Smit-McPhee really hits the nail on the head of bullied kid who desperately wants to feel like he has agency again. He manages to be creepy but sympathetic. You want him to find a path to happiness, even if he gives you the heebie jeebies with his weird masculine inducing rituals. Moretz absolutely nails child vampire. She’s innocent, but she’s also horrifying. She asks basic questions like “What’s a girlfriend?” but then has to consume other people’s blood to survive. None of these shifts feel out of character and it keeps Abby feeling complex.
Just because this is a romance with cute moments of friendship doesn’t mean it’s sunshine and daisies all the time. People are brutally murdered and their blood canvasses the white snow. The contrast is stunning and makes it clear that violence pervades our everyday existence. It can come from anywhere and doesn’t line up with what we think. The visual effects team does a great job at showing the horrors of vampire life by demonstrating the consequences of breaking vampire rules and by making the kill sequences feel deliberately violent. You can feel the pain respective character’s go through. Out of the two movies, I think this one is more visceral in its scares, so if that’s something you’re looking for you should check this out.
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TLDR
Even if Let Me In feels a little too derivative of its 2008 Swedish counterpart, its worth giving a watch if you’re looking for a coming-of-age romance with a horror twist. It’s equal parts heartwarming and horrifying and has some of the best child performances I’ve ever seen. Imay rag on the movie for feeling like a clone of the original, but that’s not a bad thing. It means it has a great story, memorable characters, poignant and relevant themes, and great horror sequences. Reeves definitely refines and polishes some of these elements and I appreciate him making the movie more accessible to a widespread audience. I just wish that the movie felt more distinct .
Rating
9.4/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Madeline Brewer as Alice Ackerman/Lola_Lola Patch Darragh as Arnold/TinkerBoy Michael Dempsey as Barney
Release Date
2018
Language(s)
English
Running Time
95 minutes
I”ll be the first to admit that I thought this movie would be a crapshoot going in. I didn’t see any reviews or anything. I just thought the description sounded interesting enough to warrant a watch . A cam girl psychological horror? Even if it wasn’t that great at least it’d be something new. Man oh man, did I underestimate what I was getting into. From the very first scene, Goldhaber lets you know that this isn’t some trendy social media cash grab movie like Friend Request. Instead it’s a deep look into the horrors of internet privacy and security and the ways we’ve become almost defined by our digital personas.
The movie follows Alice Ackerman, more popularly known by her online persona, Lola_Lola. She’s a camstar who’s been rising through the ranks and is finally on the cusp of making the top 50 most popular content creators. However, just as things start to look promising, Alice notices that her account has been hacked by a girl who looks exactly like her. This clone “Lola” acts,looks, and feels the part and Alice is forced to navigate a harrowing situation with little to no support given the nature of the occupation. The set up is even scarier when you take into account the rise of things like deep fake technology. The movie isn’t based on real events, but I wouldn’t be so sure of that in a decade or two.
This is a movie that treats its subject matter with serious respect. The camgirls that are portrayed are real human beings. They’re smart and treat their source of income like any other working adult would do. Screenplay author Isa Mazzei needs to be commended for creating a nuanced, balanced look into the lives of a group that’s constantly judged but never given a fair shake at presenting their own stories. Likewise, every single person who knows of Alice and her occupation treats her differently. Yes, there’s slut shaming and vicious judgement, but there’s also acceptance and solidarity. It keeps the movie from feeling preachy, and helps focus attention on the plot, so the themes come off natural.
The discussion at hand is broad and touches on a lot of different topics that come together in interesting and horrifying ways. After Alice has her channel taken, she attempts to use different legal channels but never receives a proper response. It’s reflective of the way the law and corporations receive social buy in under the idea that regulative channels will properly do their job, but if people are willing to keep in line with sub-par service, then what’s the point of fixing anything? Interests are transient and there’s a quick fix for any kind of entertainment if you’re willing to look for it and have the capital to ensure that it happens the way you want. You don’t need to fix the system. You just need money to navigate it.
This idea is only expanded by the streamer/anonymous chatroom setting the story takes place in. Yes anonymity and ease of streaming allows content creators to reach out to their expanding audiences more often, but it comes at the cost of putting oneself out there. People give money to those do what they want, and given the ability of anyone to be a content creator, newer entrants have to constantly one up themselves and their peers. You never know who’s giving you the money or why they’re doing it. The audience never has to share and the information asymmetry can lead to some pretty horrendous situations. In some cases, it means receiving money to participate in awful activities. When a creator gives in, the result generates more depraved behavior because suddenly everything has a relative price point. It’s a vicious feed back loop that culminates in the virtual erasure of people. Cam girls aren’t people . They’re consumable objects . It’s just a question of whether or not the audience wants to hurt and/or sexualize them.
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TLDR
CAM is a dark look into the tumultuous, and highly dangerous lives of cam girls. In a world where relevance equals money and money equals livelihood, people are forced constantly escalate their behavior to make ends meet. In the cam girl industry, that escalation comes with serious, sometimes horrifying costs. If you’re looking for a horror movie that effectively uses social media at the heart of its scares, look no further than CAM. It’s one of the best.
Rating
9.1/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
John Edgerton as Paul Carmen Ejogo as Sarah Kelvin Harrison Jr as Travis Christopher Abbott as Will Riley Keough as Kim
Release Date
2017
Language(s)
English
Running Time
91 minutes
This is a movie I’ve seen three separate times and come away with a different interpretation of its themes each time. There’s multiple ideas I have stretching from the logistics of the plot to what thematic idea the movie most strongly ties into. None of these theories are more or less correct than the other, because the movie is intentionally ambiguous. Shults has said as much in interviews. If the idea of not having a “proper” answer irritates you, then you might want to skip the movie. On the other hand, if you’re someone who loves being forced to think and re-visit your previous interpretations, this is the movie for you. It’s slow and and purposely ambiguous, constantly acting provocative, but never pulling the trigger in giving you a coherent answer. I say this because advertising for the movie makes it seem like it’s going to be this cool post-apocalyptic creature-feature of some sorts and it’s not. The real “it” , no matter what it really is, is just a stand in for darker human thoughts and ideas.
The movie follows a family of three: Paul, the father; Sarah, the wife; Travis, the son. They live in a post-apocalyptic world ravaged by a disease that necessitates the infected be killed and then burned. The family is incredibly secure about ensuring their safety. As they meet more people and things start to go bump in the night, everyone’s suspicions rise and the misery starts to ratchet up. The movie is dark and things linger in the background. The camera cuts just when threads of the story begin to get just a bit less ambiguous . It gives the movie a frantic, uncertain vibe. Everyone’s character and their respective performance add to the mystery. All of them have understandable motivations and no one ever feels malicious. The element of fear is always present, so when revelations happen you get why everyone is so on edge. By the end of the movie, I was uncertain of who did what to whom and the feeling hasn’t changed on re-watches.
This is a tough movie to watch because it almost feels like a deep dive into peoples worst fears , the fears that paralyze action and cause social disintegration when they become dominant. Add on to that the natural decline in resources and you have a nice little state of nature. On my first view, I thought the movie was an allegory for the pitfalls of the Hobbesian state. For the unfamiliar it goes something like this – people are inherently savage and are motivated by a survival instinct. In a world without rules and assurances, they strive to maintain a hold on their resources. This leads to a state of perpetual violence because any other person is a threat to those resources and thereby the initial agents survival. Eventually, people, sick of living in constant fear, come together and form a government where a single authority figure, aptly named the Leviathan, determines what is and isn’t allowed. The movie feels like an instantiation of this larger theory and an examination of how it would eventually play out. It also feels topical given the global rise in nationalism and stirring of xenophobic fear of the Other. In a world where we’re constantly fed ideas that people from elsewhere are dangerous ,discussions like this are even more valuable. Should we be cautious and what are the costs of being too ready to eliminate difference?
What sets the movie apart from other post-apocalyptic movies is the sense of unknown. It’s established early on that the succumbing to the disease transforms you, but that transformation isn’t explained. The impact of it is hinted to be so awful that the characters are willing to drop anyone who even hints at having it. It makes you think about what it could be that’s so bad. Is it related to the night? Maybe, maybe not because the night is usually dominated by nightmare sequences. They’re shocking, but they’re not clear and leave their interpretation up to you. The movie is edited so that no definite answer can be reached. Everything blends into each other so you’re left to determine what’s real and whats fantasy. Obviously some theories seem more valid and others feel like wild conjecture, but the story is open to a lot. As such, the movie has immense re-watch value because you can always get something out of it, even if that something leaves you feeling misanthropic. This is the kind of movie you watch with friends who like to really get into making theories, because the subject matter and its presentation naturally lend themselves to being interpreted in different ways. On the other hand, if you like solid answers, the movie can come off as jerking you around. I only started to really appreciate it my third time and I think it’s one of movies that grows on you.
Given all of that, my issue with the movie is it I think it doesn’t go far enough. I’m fine with getting lost in a maze trying to figure out what’s going on, but I can’t help but feel it can come off as a bit dull the first time watching it. Unless you’re actively playing with a subtext and trying to view the movie through that lens, the whole thing can come off as hard to remember. The feelings it generates are certainly visceral, but the ambiguous storytelling makes it hard to remember finer details if you’re taking the story seriously at face value.
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TLDR
It Comes at Night is a puzzling look into the darkest parts of the human psyche. If you like slow, atmosphere driven, open-to-interpretation horror you need to give this a watch. There are no routine jump scares or straightforward plot threads here.
Rating
9.3/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
A view of the neighborhood. The camera pulls in through a window… …which is revealed to be the window of the Amityville residence’s attic. Drew (Shannon Cook), the Warren’s technical assistant, sets up the camera’s in the attic. The camera glides through a window frame in the infamous Amityville household. The attic the window sits in is outfitted with equipment meant to detect the paranormal.
A view of a suburban neighborhood transforms into a more intimate encounter as the camera glides from the street through a window pane into the attic of a specific house – the Amityville residence. When Drew (Shannon Cook), the Warren’s technician shows up in the room to set up a camera, it becomes apparent that the duo is here attempting to solve the infamous Amityville case.
Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) and Ed(Patrick Wilson) get ready to investigate the Amityville house. The camera pushes in on Lorraine(Vera Farmiga)Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) gets ready to open her eyes. As Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) opens her eyes, the camera pulls out. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) is revealed to be in the same room, but the lighting is much darker now. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) seems to be the only agent in the room as Ed(Patrick Wilson) and the others are “grayed” out. Wan lets the camera glide into and out of Lorraine in much the same manner as it glided through the Amityville house earlier. Both entities seem to possess an spectral agency, a tie to the world beyond. Lorraine moves from her body and demonstrates her psychic powers are similar to astral projection.
On cue, both Ed (Patrick Wilson) and Lorraine Warren (Vera Farmiga) appear seated in the living room, setting up a séance with the family residing in the abode. The camera slowly pushes in on Lorraine. Her eyes are lit differently indicating she’s engaging in her spiritual sight. Eventually, the camera settles on a close-up of her face. Her eyes open, and the camera pulls back out to a darkened room. Lorraine is the only person in the area who still retains a vitality, a spark that gives her a color that the others in the room no longer possess.
Lorraine’s (Vera Farmiga) astral projection walks around the Amityville residence as her corporeal body sits with Ed (Patrick Wilson) and the house’s residents. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) sees two of the victims. The woman in the pair looks away. There’s a jump cut and the woman stares at Lorraine’s direction. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) loads her invisible gun and shoots the woman. There’s a jump cut and the woman lays dead next to her husband. The woman’s photograph. Wan employs jump cuts to represent the discontinuity of Lorraine’s experience. She’s roleplaying the Amityville murders, but the manner in which she does so indicates that she’s not fully in control with how the session will play out. To get access to the full picture, she’ll need to re-live the entire event.
Her astral form exits the room, leaving her body behind with the others in the realm of the living. She goes up the stairs and is met with a couple, a man and a woman, in their bedroom. The man has a gash in his body. The woman is sitting facing away from Lorraine. Suddenly, the film cuts, jumping forward. The woman stares at Lorraine and interrogates her. In response, Lorraine reloads an imaginary gun and shoots the woman. Another jump cut and the woman lays dead next to her husband. A close-up of her visage on a family photograph appears briefly. Without saying anything, it’s apparent that Lorraine is using her psychic vision to roleplay the events of the Amityville massacre, allowing herself to be possessed by the events of the house in an attempt to figure everything out.
Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) is “possessed” by the real killer as she investigates what really happened. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) is horrified by the deaths she reenacts. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) expresses her discontent in the corporeal realm as Ed (Patrick Wilson) looks over concerned. As Lorraine walks along a mirror, it’s revealed that she’s possessed by the actual killer. She’s “wearing” his experience so to speak, and once he’s done with his murders, she breaks out of the trance in shock. Her devastation ripples through from her astral body to her corporeal one.
More murders follow in similar fragmented manner until Lorraine jolts in horror at the scenarios she’s been forced to replay. Her emotions break through from the astral realm to the realm of the living, as her physical body reacts in much the same way. Ed, worried about his wife’s distress, asks her to call off the endeavor and return to her body. But Lorraine refuses and seeks to carry on.
A child with white eyes stares at Lorraine. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) follows the child. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) walks and reveals a host of ghost children. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) is caught by surprise as the ghost children all stare in one direction. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) investigates the object of the children’s’ gaze. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) pulls off a cover to reveal a mirror. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) notices a demonic Nun (Bonnie Aarons) behind her in the mirror’s reflection. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga)looks behind her and sees nothing. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) notices the Nun (Bonnie Aarons) has stepped closer to her.Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) is choked out by the Nun. But the Nun’s hands dissapear and become Lorraine’s(Vera Farmiga) own hands. The nun conjures up a vision of a man being impaled for Lorraine to observe. Lorraine follows a specter downstairs and is shown a mirror. In her reflection, she notices another figure gazing back at her. Every time she turns to check for the figure behind her, nothing shows up. But when she turns back to the mirror, the figure, a demonic Nun, gets closer and closer. Finally, the creature steps out of the mirror and attacks Lorraine. But the attack abates as the hands around Lorraine’s neck inexplicably become hers once again. But the nun isn’t done with its target. It conjures up a vision of a man being impaled which sends Lorraine into a stack of abject despair.
She follows a spectral child who leads her to a host of ghost kids. The group stares at an object which Lorraine disrobes and reveals to be a mirror. A figure in the glass’s reflection stares at her. Lorraine turns back to confront the figure. There’s nothing. She turns back to look at the mirror. Now the figure, a demonic Nun (Bonnie Aarons) is staring directly at her. Another turn back. Nothing. When she turns her head back to the mirror, the Nun appears outside of it and proceeds to choke her.
But the Nun’s hands are then revealed to be Lorraine’s hands after all. Where did the creature go and what did it want? Suddenly, Lorraine sees a vision conjured by the Nun. A man is impaled in brutal fashion. While the visage of the figure is unknown to us, it’s clear that the demonstration means something to Lorraine.
Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) screams due to the vision. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) wakes up in the corporeal realm screaming. Lorraine(Vera Farmiga) tells Ed (Patrick WIlson) of the depths of the depravity she’s seen. Lorraine wakes up in the realm of the living, revealing to her husband whatever vision she saw was the furthest she ever wanted to go in their encounters. The stakes are raised, but their depths are unknown.
She screams at its site as the film cuts from the astral world back to the corporeal world. The camera pulls out from her face, indicating that her encounter with the abyss is over for now. She reaches out to her husband and indicates that her experience is the “closest to hell” she ever wants to get to. The two stare at each other and the frame freezes.
A text crawl appears and explains that the Amityville case, the case we were just presented, serves as a good benchmark for the case The Conjuring 2 to explore. This time instead of the United States, the Warren’s are called to Enfield, England to deal with a haunting troubling the Hodgson family. Thus, the story proper can start; the stakes and rules of the spectral world are fully set.
In similar fashion to The Conjuring, director James Wan’s sequel follows the Warrens as they attempt to exorcist the spirits tormenting an innocent family. The story even adopts a similar structure as its predecessor and leaps back and forth between Warrens and the family they’re helping out, developing both sets of characters to raise the stakes for the finale. However, in The Conjuring 2′s case, the narrative regarding the family in question is far more focused and multifaceted. There’s a clear presentation of the family’s inner dynamics and an explanation for why and how they react to the adversities they face in the way they do.
The most important difference between the two films, however, is that this entry demonstrates and ties the nature of the Hodgson’s family’s empirical woes to their supernatural struggles, thereby giving a much-needed depth to the spectral spectacles Wan chooses to employ. [1] This is in reference to my discussion of Stephen King’s analysis of The Amityville Horror in my The Conjuring review. Check it out there for more context. While specters and demons are frightening in a visceral sense, real terror arises when those creatures represent something larger than themselves, a symbol of the more insidious terrors lying beneath the surface. Here the source of the family’s discord is tied to their newly missing father figure who left the Hodgson’s for another family, so the nature of the haunting they experience is that sense of abandonment come to life in ghostly form.
Additionally, as the opening demonstrates, the film’s focus on exploring and providing a more robust metaphysical explanation of the supernatural buttresses theatrical moments which would otherwise deflate the tension. By choosing to delve into the metaphysical aspect of the sub-genre in a manner more akin to his opaquer Insidious franchise’s “The Further”, Wan is able to provide a vantage point by which to interpret the seemingly random supernatural happenings in a manner which strengthens the film’s themes as opposed to feeling haphazard. However, instead of basking in explanation or set-up like he does in that franchise, Wan chooses to demonstrate the rules of supernatural engagement in this film via the camera movements. Push-ins indicate the presence of the supernatural and push-outs demonstrate the resolution of that presence. Consequently, Wan utilizes both camera moves in relation to both persons and locations to clue the viewer into when something otherworldly is happening. On top of serving as visual motif, the movement allows Wan to employ match cuts to hide and allow for stellar in-camera tricks. Just like Juraj Herz does in The Cremator, Wan pushes in on faces to disguise transformations in the set, seamlessly allowing the film to transition from and to areas in slick fashion.
These changes on the initial film’s formula give the sequel a springboard to jump off of which prevents the experience from feeling ham-fisted. Thus, for the most part, Wan gets to have his cake and eat it too; the theatricality and kinetic frenzy of his direction is given ample room to express itself without ever undermining the emotionally resonant story it’s meant to help tell. As a sequel, The Conjuring 2 does everything it should: it expands the scope of the original story in believable fashion while remaining consistent with the feeling and polish fans have come to expect.
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TLDR
The Conjuring 2 is the rare sequel that exceeds its original, improving on not only the narrative but also the cinematic presentation of the same. There’s a care given to developing the characters, both the family being haunted and the Warrens who seek to assist, that gives the film a depth that sustains it even during the more grandiose moments. While fans of the original will surely delight in the machinations presented here, the film’s more pronounced ambitions, namely demonstrated via its camera movements, might win over viewers who found the previous entry too simple for their tastes.
Rating
9.6/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis. Go to Page 3to view this review’s progress report .
Thomas Jane as Wilfred James Dylan Schmid as Henry James Molly Parker as Arlette James
Release Date
2017
Language (s)
English
Running Time
101 minutes
As someone who actually enjoyed 1922 (the novella), I was fairly excited when I saw that Netflix was going to distribute the adaptation. I’m even happier to announce that this adaptation is not only one of the better King adaptations out and about, but is also an effective horror movie in its own right. The story follows Wilfred James, a farmer whose way of life is under threat when his wife, Arlette, threatens to sell their farm land and leave for the city. Wilfred views land as an extension of ones worth and pride. Losing it is no real option. It gives him both the ability to take care of his family and represents the only thing he can leave his son, an extension of his name, and thereby another source of pride. Fearing that his wife will make good on her word, he decides to commit the cardinal sin and permanently remove her from the situation. However, he soon learns that everyone pays for their actions one way or another.
The framing device the movie uses to tie together all its events is Wilfred in the present day recounting his experiences fighting his wife, deciding to get rid of her, and the subsequent horrifying experiences he has to go through. The movie is a case study in the deterioration that accompanies sin. Even if no one is around to judge you, you know what you did. Your sub-conscious never forgets even if you can put your actions out of your mind. The way the framing device cuts in with the progression of the main story accentuates this feeling by giving the audience first-hand feedback on how the actions ended up impacting Wilfred in the future. As a result, watching him deal with the guilt of his action is both satisfying thematically and visually. The further he falls into the cycle of guilt , the more his world starts to visually crumble. You can always tell the state of his psyche based on the environment around him. It doubles as a cool representation of his inner thoughts and a source of visual scares.
Thomas Jane does a great job as Wilfred. You can see his resolve in his voice and demeanor. He comes off as someone on edge who’s forcing himself to stay rigid and coherent for the sake of his pride. Everything is worth it if he can succeed in his job as a farmer and in his duties as a father. His lineage determines his value as a human being and anything that could harm it is an attack on his very sense of self. It’s why his guilt manifests in such a strong and profound way. It’s because his perception of his worth has shifted, even if he can’t immediately tell it has.
My issues with the movie have more so to do with the original source material and not the adaptation itself. I think the adaptation does a great job at conveying the same sense of paranoia the novella had. The issue is that like the novella, there are some story moves that ruin the ambiguity of whether or not supernatural elements are actually at play. The story wants it to be ambiguous, but the way that it progresses makes that an impossibility. I wish the adaptation just edited certain moments in a different order because it would resolve the ambiguity issue. I also think there are certain additional sequences in the story that hurt the theme and characterization of Wilfred. I was sad to see them kept in the film adaptation. But if you enjoyed the full novella, then this should definitely please you.
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TLDR
1922 is a twisted tale chronicling a man’s descent into depravity. By prioritizing his interests and being unwilling to compromise, he ends up slowly losing his sense of self. Though the ending kind of misses the mark, the movie should satisfy fans of dramas and psychological horrors.
Rating
9.2/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Maika Monroe as Jay Height Keir Gilchrist as Paul Bolduan Jake Weary as Hugh
Release Date
2014
Language(s)
English
Running Time
100 minutes
Wow, my relationship with this movie is complicated. The first time I watched it, it was after its initial release in the US (2015). I had heard a ton of rave reviews about it and was super hyped. I remember feeling really bored by the end of the movie and cast it away as being over hyped. Fast forward a few years, and I ended up randomly seeing the movie on Netflix and decided to watch it again. This time I enjoyed the movie more, but still didn’t think it was that great. Finally, as I was making my best horror movies of the past decade list (coming soon I promise), I decided to give the movie one more watch and ended up genuinely loving it. All the details I had never paid attention to before like the cinematography and the score came into focus and I could appreciate the movie in its entirety as opposed to just honing in on the stuff I don’t like.
The film follows Jay, a high-school student, who receives a sexually transmitted supernatural curse of sorts. She’s told by her transmitter early on that the titular “it” will follow her to the ends of the earth, taking on any form it can to get to her. “It” can only be seen by her and other people who have been recipients of the curse. She can escape “it” for moments at a time, because “it” can only walk slowly towards her. To temporarily get rid of the curse, she has to pass it on to someone else. With barely any time to get a grasp on this knowledge, Jay is tossed out and forced to reckon with the horrifying situation she finds herself in.
The inherent idea of “it” is terrifying to think about. STD/STI’s are scary enough but “it” takes those fears and personifies them in the shape of something that uniquely haunts each victim. Adolescence is the time for a lot of early sexual exploration which is scary enough. It’s an act that makes you vulnerable to an other and to think that someone would willingly expose you to an ailment in order to survive makes the experience even more harrowing. However, voluntarily passing on the curse uses sex as a kind of social glue, giving it a connective tissue. It’s allegorical for how we begin to approach sexual relations. Yes, it can be scary and harrowing but it can also create positive tethers that prove conducive. It’s not just sex though – sex is only representative of the most intimate form of opening up with each other, so the movie can be interpreted at a more general level of the way we interact with one another. Every time we meet someone new we open ourselves up to a range of interactions. Despite the risks, there’s a lot of positives that can come from opening up. It’s a multifaceted message that allows for hope and enables genuine terror.
If that’s not your cup of tea and you just want to see actual scary moments, It Follows has them, but they’re interspersed throughout the movie. “It” violently brutalizes its victims when it finally reaches them and the aftermath of its encounter is presented within the first scene of the movie. Watching our protagonists interact with “it” make the endeavor feel hopeless and you genuinely get scared whenever “it” is in the proximity of the latest person in the chain of the curse.
Now that the story stuff is out of the way, I have to say the production values on this movie are through the roof. It’s an audio visual treat and you should watch it just to have the sensory experience. Mike Gioulakis knocks the visuals out of the park. You can pause the movie at any point and get a picturesque visual worthy of serving as a screensaver or being printed and placed in a frame. Every time “it” comes into the screen, the tension becomes palpable. There were multiple times where I could feel myself gripping my knuckles. The synthy score by Disasterpeace reminds me a lot of John Carpenters music and gives the movie this cool hypnotic feeling. It’s amazing just how different every track feels and I’ve listened to the album a lot while writing or reading. I absolutely adore the title track and how its incorporated into the movie. Every time I hear it the hairs on my arms automatically start prickling up, so I’d say its association with “it” was well established.
Now that we’ve gotten past the good stuff, let’s tackle my biggest issue with the movie- the characters. I couldn’t tell you any of the personality traits of the characters outside of some small facts about Jay. That’s right I said facts, not personality traits. Jay and her group of friends all feel incredibly stale. It’s not because they lack dialogue or chances for interaction. In fact, I enjoyed some of the conversations the group has with each other. It’s just all the characters have the same “gray” disposition. None of them are particularly energized and they come off as low energy. This compounded with the slow pacing creates the perceptual issue that nothing’s really happening, which is far from the truth. It’s not even that the performances are bad. For example, Weary’s performance as Hugh, the individual who gives Jay the curse to begin with, is great. His motivations come off as justified and scummy, which is exactly how he needs to be. It’s more so that characters are never told to approach situations with a lot of levity. There’s no real opportunity for high octane moments given the way everything plays out. This means the characters only have a few range of emotions to go through which makes certain sequences feel more boring than they should be. It’s an issue that bugs me, but not nearly enough to make me discount the movie like I used to.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
It Follows is a treat on your eyes and ears. The idea of a sexually transmitted curse is terrifying, but the nuanced way the movie utilizes it to open up discourse on the way humans open up to each other is beautiful. This is a slow paced movie that relies on atmosphere so if you want jump scares or a lot of action, you may want to skip this. If you enjoy slow burn/arthouse movies then you might really like this,.
Rating
9.3/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Colin Farrell as Steven Murphy Barry Keoghan as Martin Nicole Kidman as Anna Murphy Raffey Cassidy as Kim Murphy Sunny Suljic as Bob Murphy
Release Date
2017
Language(s)
English
Running Time
121 minutes
Saying I love this movie might be an understatement. When I first saw this back in 2017, I was left completely floored. This movie goes dark, nihilistic places but is somehow hilarious in an awful twisted way. It’s one of a kind and had me on the edge of my seats up till the credits started to roll. Watching it again for this review only reminded me of how amazing it all was and I promise I’ll watch more of Yorgos’s stuff in the future (starting with The Lobster) .
The plot summary will be sparse, because watching the mystery unravel is the best part. Steven Murphy is a renowned surgeon, living the bourgeoisie American life. He has a gorgeous exorbitant house and a nice idyllic family life. After he starts a friendship with Martin, an unnerving high school student, his family mysteriously starts falling ill. As he struggles to find a way to bring them back to good health, he’s forced to confront his past and make some truly outrageous decisions.
Without spoiling too much, the movie is about revenge and responsibility. When someone is wronged, how can we rectify the scales? Who should be responsible and how should things play out? The movie doesn’t stray away from some dark explorations into these areas and watching the characters grapple with the weight of their actions is both disturbing and comedic. There’s just something funny about the lengths people will go through to deny the truth of what’s going on in front of them, and Yorgos knows exactly how to depict that absurdity in a way that’s poignant and sardonic. It’s telling of the human condition- in particular the American bourgeoisie lifestyle – in how people are willing trade bits and pieces of themselves to keep a sense of social coherence/status. People are so preoccupied with inflating their sense of self, that they lose focus of the the important things, trading their humanity for some ludicrous fantasy.
You could pause the movie at random (most of the time) and end up with a nice picturesque moment. Yorgos knows how to create tension and mood with proper shot composition. There are gorgeous tracking shots that accentuate drama. Most of the time the camera zooms in or out very slowly to show the characters relation to the situation around them. Often times, it feels like it’s highlighting isolation and their attempts at projecting outside of that. The score only amplifies this feeling. There are boisterous orchestral moments that make the movie feel like a classic, and modern touches like a cover of Ellie Goulding’s Burn (which is horrifying but catchy).
Everyone’s performance is on point, but Barry Keoghan’s portrayal as Martin is something especially noteworthy. He’s creepy – all caps. He comes off a awkward initially, but as the plot progresses he becomes incredibly versatile. He’s menacing, honest, to-the-point, dry, nonchalant,serious and consistent at his core despite shifting among these moods. If he couldn’t balance the dead-pan, serious delivery of the lines, then a lot of more more memorable scenes wouldn’t have the same impact.
I only have a few problems with the movie. Some of the loftier plot elements feel a bit too “convenient” for me to accept without any question. They’re a bit too fantastical and feel at odds with the depth of realism in other areas. Furthermore, I wanted to understand some of the main drivers of the mystery in more depth, because I thought it could add and enhance the discussion of responsibility, but the film avoids that explanation. It becomes a bigger issue because the first act feels at odds with the conclusion of the movie without this explanation.
The characters also feel a bit odd. Don’t get me wrong. They’re memorable, distinct, and definitely all have moments where they shine. They’re just not relatable because they’re all odd, both as individuals and as interconnected units. Their characterization makes the themes of the movie pop out more , but make the horror harder to relate to.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
The Killing of a Sacred Deer is a deep dive into the dark crevices of the bourgeoisie psyche. It explores themes of revenge, responsibility, and the practice of engaging in cognitive dissonance for social standings. Some of the more ambiguous elements hold the film back from fully exploring its potential, but it hardly matters. If you’re looking for a dark comedic drama with some absurdist moments, I implore you to check this one out.
Rating
9.7/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Lupita Nyong’o as Adelaide Wilson/Red Winston Duke as Gabe Wilson/Abraham Shahadi Wright Joseph as Zora Wilson/ Umbrae Evan Alex as Jason Wilson/ Pluto
Note: This review contains spoilers regarding the first 40 minutes of the film as opposed to the site’s usual benchmark of 10-20 minutes. The same effort towards sustaining the intrigue and momentum of the film, especially in its second and third acts, is maintained in this review, and all plot details revealed are just meant to be a springboard to discuss the scope of the work in better detail. Nothing discussed should undermine the “best” portions of the film or the many mysteries that keep the story engaging.
Thousands of tunnels exist underneath the Continental United States with no known purpose. A weather warning about a storm. An add for “Hands Across America”. Adelaide (Madison Curry) sees her reflection on the screen. An ad for the Santa Monica Beach. Adelaide (Madison Curry) wins the “11th” prize. After an introductory quote, the camera slowly pushes in towards a television which features a wide range of images on its screen: a weather warning, an advert for a charitable performance, a young girl’s reflection, and an advert for a beach. This initial tapestry will come to mean something far greater as the film continues.
The film opens with a quote explaining that there are thousands of tunnels underneath the Continental United States. Many of these passages have no known purpose and are thought to be empty. The quote disappears and the film cuts to a television screen which the camera slowly pushes in towards.
First, a weather report for an incoming storm plays. The number “11” is featured in the frame in three separate locations – a sign of things to come. Second, an advert for “Hands Across America”, a fundraiser meant to generate funds for the homeless via donation and a public demonstration of persons linking their hands across the country, proceeds in detail. The channel is changed by the viewer, a young black girl, Adelaide (Madison Curry), whose reflection can be seen on the screen temporarily. Finally, an advert for the Santa Monica Beach proceeds. Thus, the tapestry of the film is established: a storm, the number “11”, a mirror reflection, a symbol of unification meant to help the disenfranchised, and a beach for persons to enjoy a vacation in.
This image of the beach is replaced by the beach proper. Adelaide and her parents attempt to enjoy the festivities present at the location. Her father wins her the “11th” numbered prize, a Michael Jackson Thriller t-shirt, and the family unit departs to explore the grounds.
Adelaide (Madison Curry) heads towards the hall of mirrors. She drops her apple on the beach. Adelaide (Madison Curry) enters the hall of mirrors as a storm rages on behind her. Adelaide (Madison Curry) is forced to confront distorted reflections and is unable to find an exit. Adelaide (Madison Curry) comes face to face with her corporeal Other. Adelaide (Madison Curry) screams in terror. A rabbit stares into the camera. The blood red title card appears. A classroom of caged rabbits is revealed. The prologue continues to develop the meaning of the television images that came before in disturbing fashion. The “11’s” come to be associated with a Biblical warning promising terrible things to come. As the young Adelaide descends a staircase, drops her red apple, enters a maze of mirrors, and finds herself trapped by her reflections with no way out, the feeling of dread continues to get worse before bursting as she finds herself face-to-face with a corporeal doppelgänger. She screams but instead of showing a direct response to her cry for help, Peele cuts to the eyes of a rabbit and has the camera slowly track out – an opposite movement to the opening. The title card drops in a blood red that call’s back to the apple before the brand new environment, a classroom filled with rabbits, is shown with seemingly no explanations.
The trio splits apart and Adelaide finds herself roaming the grounds of the beach and its festivities by herself. She comes upon a man holding a sign reading “Jeremiah 11:11.” The Bible Verse in question proclaims: “Therefore this is what the LORD says: ‘I will bring on them a disaster they cannot escape. Although they cry out to me, I will not listen to them.” The preceding signs of “11” take an ominous tone, especially in conjunction with the aforementioned storm – something wicked is coming.
Adelaide descends a set of stairs and the mood gets eerier. She comes upon a Native American themed hall of mirrors titled “Shaman’s Vision Quest.” Thus, the indigenous is transformed into a commercial specter promising an internal revelation. The young girl drops her candy-coated apple – an Edenic symbol and a snack food associated with Halloween- on the shore before venturing into the abode. The foreboding feeling continues to build as a storm begins to rage outside – the ominous pieces showcased in the opening rear their heads in successive fashion.
Inside, Adelaide is thrown off guard first by a random power outage which forces her to traverse the darkness, a mechanical owl that frightens her, and then by a series of mirrors which distort her reflection and make the exit to the attraction impossible to locate. Her journey inwards transforms into a reflective labyrinth with no way out. Afraid, she starts to whistle the “Itsy Bitsy Spider” in an attempt to calm herself down. But as she proceeds to try and find through the maze of mirrors, she runs into a doppelganger – a corporeal copy of her instead of a reflection in glass. Her face breaks out into shock as the camera closes in on her expression before quickly cutting to the gaze of a rabbit staring into the frame.
In contrast to the opening push in on the television, the camera pulls back from this new visage, as though concluding the initial movement and tying the two together, and reveals a host of rabbits, all of which are trapped in sequential cages spanning the entire room. The blood red title card drops, calling back to the dropped apple from earlier and signaling an impending sense of violence.
The composition of this new room seems to be a classroom setting but outside of desks and rabbits there are no identifiable markers to make sense of where we’ve been transported to or why Adelaide’s scream has been answered with the gaze of an animal. The words of Jeremiah make this jarring edit all the more concerning. Is the cut to caged animals a deified sign of abandonment in response to Adelaide’s horror or something else entirely?
The camera goes over a forest……and settles on a car driving along. An image on the back of the car reveals the family’s backdrop before we even see them – we know their makeup. The camera moves over trees to the back of a car; an image of a family informs us of our lead characters before we get a chance to see them.
Instead of an answer, the momentum from the camera pulling out continues as the film cuts to a view of a lush, green forest. A car is seen driving through the greens. A sticker on the back of the car informs us that a family of four – a father, a mother, a son, a daughter – are traveling together. The symbolic representation of the family conveys all the information that’s required to understand this unit’s breakdown, but the camera cuts to reveal the individual persons behind the figures, imbuing the symbols with a content that personalizes them. A grown up Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) and her husband, Gabe (Winston Duke), are taking their kids, Zora (Shahadi Wright) and Jason (Evan Alex), to their beach house for a fun-filled vacation.
Adelaide arranges a host of toy animals “hand-to-hand” across a sandy plane, recreating the “Hands Across America” image. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) is transfixed by her past. A spider runs past its inanimate Other looming over it and casting a shadow. Adelaide’s trauma stays at the forefront of her mind and sings from her past linger like a puzzle for her to solve.
However, while things appear to be normal within the family, it’s apparent that the past still haunts Adelaide. While her family engages in a variety of shenanigans that helps us get a feel for their respective personalities – Jason is a playful trickster, Zora is a moody teen, Gabe is an energetic and playful father – Adelaide drifts from the present to the past, reliving her confrontation with her doppelganger and its aftermath. At first, she recounts the therapy session her parents took her to following the event. It’s revealed that she lost her ability to speak following the encounter with her Other self and built a line of toy animals “holding” each other’s “hands” across a beach-like backdrop; this image of unity, a reference to the “Hands Across America” advert from earlier was her object of focus in the face of trauma. Suddenly, she snaps back to the present and notices a spider crawling under a larger, inanimate model spider – an “itsy bitsy” spider and its unalive Other casting a shadow over it.
Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) stares at a stuffed bunny in adoration. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) looks at an image from her past. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) sees her younger self dancing in front of her. She can’t escape her fate as her past bleeds into her present and the symbols and their respective relationships continue to develop – a confrontation is coming soon.
Later on, she curiously picks up a stuffed bunny and looks at it with affection – a perplexing connection given the nature of the cut from her encounter with her Other self to the caged rabbit. Despite seemingly not encountering the creature herself, her encounter having ended with the confrontation and never approaching the hidden room containing the furry creatures, the animal has a hold over her. Along with the doll, she finds a picture of her from her youth in dance garb. This younger self materializes in the present, bringing her trauma to the forefront of her psyche and cementing the connection between the furry creature and the past that still haunts her. The web of symbols continues to get more intermixed amongst one another.
When Gabe mentions wanting to take the family to the Santa Monica Beach for the evening, Adelaide quickly refuses. She fears giving her trauma more control over her psyche via a confrontation with the arena in which she experienced it. Yet, her family’s, namely Gabe’s, passionate pleas get her to acquiesce to a short visit.
Gabe’s boat presentation doesn’t go as well as he hopes. The police take the body of the man who held the “Jeremiah 11:11” sign. The Wilson family casts long shadows on the beach. Jason (Evan Alex) walks past the mirrors. A red frisbee perfectly covers an image of a blue circle. Jason (Evan Alex) sees a bleeding man on the beach. No sooner do they she leave the house do creepy coincides start to arrive – 11:11, shadows, the house of mirrors, replacement, and a spectacle that causes fear. The past is starting to repeat.
He calls the family out to bask in his new boat purchase, albeit one that barely works and seems far from pristine, before the group leaves for the beach. His short-lived material celebration starts the journey on a dour note. The mood shifts towards a jovial attitude as Luniz’s “5 on It” plays on the car radio, prompting the family to sing along and share in the experience – fitting given the lyrics’ emphasis on paying one’s fair share (for drugs). However, as they get closer to the supposedly serene vacation spot, they notice police officers dealing with a deceased person. The camera lingers on a sign in the corpse’s hand just long enough to reveal that this is most likely the same person from Adelaide’s past who held and is still holding the Jeremiah 11:11 sign.
It’s not just her repression coming back into fold within her psyche, but the event itself seems to be repeating – a beach, then the quite literal sign from Jeremiah. If the pattern follows, confrontation with the Other is next. Fittingly, the soundscape transforms and an eerie chorus takes charge with a background chant. The sound of drums introduces a sense of discord as the family makes their way across the beach, casting large shadows, doubles, against the sand.
The mood turns temporarily jovial again as the group makes contact with their wealthier friends, the Tylers, who immediately engage in frivolities, boasting about their materialistic interests and highlighting the still-present class differences between the two families; even with a summer-home and a boat, the Wilson’s still experience a disjunction between their expectations of “wealthy life” and their reality. However, a series of unnerving coincidences continue to prop up during the groups dialogue, becoming increasingly disconcerting for Adelaide, who stays on a razor edge the entire time, watching over her family and ensuring that nothing happens to them.
Soon after, Jason momentarily disappears going towards the bathroom, passing by the same hall of mirrors his mother went into years ago during her fateful encounter. However, the location has gone through a transformation, and the indigenous décor has been replaced by European iconography; the Native American mascot has given way and been replaced by the wizard Merlin as it’s the European stand-in who now promises to reveal one’s “true” self. This seemingly innocuous transformation imbues the idea of the “Other” as a double that the film has been building with newfound colonialist undertones. This idea is accentuated when a red frisbee randomly falls onto the towel Adelaide is sitting on; an image of a blue dot is completely covered with a physical red circular object- a callback to the dropped Edenic apple from her youth and a repetition of the double as a replacement.
When Jason returns from the bathroom, the pressure building up culminates in a violent experience: he sees a loner bleeding out on the beach, seemingly unaware of the world around him. The air is rife with malevolence and it seems that something terrible is about to happen as history is on the verge of repeating. But Jason is immediately “rescued” by Adelaide, who refuses to allow her son to go through the same trauma she did when left to her own devices all those decades ago. The Wilson family quickly departs and leaves the scene before anything else can threaten to happen.
Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) reaches out to Jason (Evan Alex). The clocks hits “11:11”Adelaide realizes Jason’s seen too much – the violence is imminent. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) looks at her reflection while recounting her past.The power goes out after Gabe tries to “lighten” the mood. The Wilson’s doppelgängers stand in silhouette holding each others hands. Try as she might, Adelaide can’t hold back the past’s encroachment and comes face to face with the doppelgänger she’s spent her whole life running from. Thus, the confrontation with the shadow Other begins (again).
Adelaide tries to reestablish a sense of normalcy back at the home. She reaches out to Jason and holds his hand, showcasing a sense of affection and solidarity with him given his off-kilter experience. But then the clock hits 11:11. Jeremiah’s warning refuses to go away and no number of assurances can hold back the tide of problems he prophesizes to come. Adelaide knows as much when she sees Jason’s drawing of his extreme encounter; violence is on the way and it can no longer be stopped or ignored.
She starts to come undone as her walls break down; the trauma of her past cannot be compartmentalized any longer. Suddenly, she finds herself telling Gabe about her history on the beach and her fateful encounter with her doppelganger; despite being able to get away from her Other, she lives in fear of eventually being caught by them and subject to something heinous. Gabe tries to lighten the mood with some humor, but the power, as if in response, goes out; just like the funhouse all those years ago, Adelaide is forced to traverse the darkness and find a way out, this time with family in tow.
But try as she might, she can’t run away from her destiny and finds herself face-to-face with a group of doppelgangers, one matching each of her own family members. This group, fully unified in a hand-to-hand embrace, stands in shadowy silhouette, ready to confront their “other” selves, our protagonists. For close to 40 minutes, Peele has let the respective elements – rabbits, reflections, shadows, Jeremiah’s warning, doubles – build up against a vantage point alluding to systemic violence – classism and imperialism – before finally allowing the battle between the self and its Other to “truly” begin in explosive fashion.
At a surface level, this story about doubles is unnerving in its own right and comes replete with its own associated motifs and undercurrents – the ideas of the loss of self and the encounter with unsavory elements that one tries to repress. And at this level, Peele certainly allows genre elements to play out in visceral, brutal fashion as the encounter marks the start of a series of escalating, violent clashes between the mirrored selves. However, the beauty of Us, stems not from these identifiable moments of subjective violence but from the way such moments reveal the “zero-level standard” of an “objective” violence that operate unseen in the background [1] Zizek, S. (2008). The Tyrant’s Bloody Nose . In Violence. introduction, Picador. . By placing identical but completely different persons, objects, and musical choices against one another and intermixing between them, Peele forces us to confront the ideological basis we use to categorize similar looking phenomena into completely distinct categories.
The ever-present doubling necessitates a navigation as every reflection brings with it its own set of questions. Characters don’t just meet their doubles at an individual level, but they also experience that double at a familial and social level – every structure, big and small, is presented with its mirror image which becomes more fragmented the bigger it gets. This makes the opening of the film before the confrontation all the more relevant, as even subtle characterizations become pivotal in examining the way differences bleed from the micro to the macro and become terrors that must be confronted.
Even the musical choices – inspired tracks which include the Beach Boy’s “Good Vibrations”, Fuck Tha Police by N.W.A, and the aforementioned “5 on It” by Luniz – play into this introspection as the context in which they play changes and symbolically restructures the nature of what the lyrics are getting at, sometimes within the same scene in which they’re introduced. No sound-image is as simple as its initial presentation and the constant juxtapositions force the viewer to navigate a maze of reflections, much like Adelaide did, in order to find the “truth” within.
It’s only by the end of the film that the nature and power of this “truth” is revealed as it operates both as a structuring mechanism within the narrative as a whole and as the grammar the film proper utilizes in jumping from scene to scene, demonstrating that the true horror comes not from an identifiable subject acting maliciously as much as it does from our symbolic interpretation of that violence qua violence – horror is what we make of it.
However, this message becomes muddied in the final act. Unlike Denis Villenevue’s Enemy, another doppelgänger horror thriller which commits emphatically to a surreal and less grounded worldbuilding in its storytelling approach and opts to use symbols as points and counterpoints to guide the viewer forward in a maze of meaning, Us bizarrely pivots to trying to ground its narrative in a sense of realism that immediately makes it seem absurd. We’re so attuned to the interplay of the symbols and the nuances behind them because of Peele’s dedication to getting us to engage with the film in a more cerebral manner that the film’s decision to explain the mystery in more concrete, definite terms ends up distracting us from what came before. Focus becomes split as suddenly the concern shifts from trying to understand the way violence operates vis-a-vis said symbols to the mechanics behind the way the narrative unfolds – a regrettable choice as its in this latter section that Us is far better at showing than explaining. It’s like reading poetry, filled with metaphor and analogy, and then being interrupted by mechanic prose which disrupts the melody; consequently, the poignancy of what came before feels less so.
Compared to his Peele’s previous effort, Get Out, which has a far smaller scope in what it wants to target but is far more concise in getting there, Us can feel haphazard, but the ambitions behind what it wants to say make it just as interesting, if not more so, to discuss and analyze. If one is willing to suspend their sense of disbelief for just long enough, they’ll walk away just as changed as the characters do by the end of this shadowy encounter.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Though it stumbles in its worldbuilding by the final act, the ambitions behind this doppelganger story offer far more than meets the eye as its examination of violence and the way its conceptualized reveal the source of “true” terror.
Rating
9.6/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Ruth Wilson as Lily Saylor Paula Prentiss as Iris Blum Lucy Boynton as Polly Parsons Bob Balaban as Mr. Waxcap
Release Date
2016
Language(s)
English
Running Time
87 minutes
When I heard that Oz Perkins was releasing his next film I was more than excited. Despite having heaps of garbage, Netflix has a surprising number of gems, and under Perkins’ deft hand, I hoped one more could be added to the library. Thankfully, I was right. Perkins had taken the slow burn elements from his first movie, The Blackcoat’s Daughter, and amped them up to create a surreal almost ethereal audio-visual experience. This is not the movie for people who want jump scares, answers, or a clear story-line. It’s thought provoking, suspenseful, mesmerizing, and pays off in the way it executes its ideas rather than being a spectacle for spectacle’s sake.
The movie follows the intersecting tales of three women and their independent yet related interactions within a house. It opens up with a narration from Lily, a nurse who informs us of her incoming death in the house, as a specter. She recounts her journey in the house from the beginning, when she came in as live-in-nurse to help famed horror author, Iris Blum. As strange things happen in the house, the audience joins Lily through a visceral, strange, and out of bounds journey that always raises questions, but rarely answers them in direct ways.
Wilson does a great job as the lead. As the narrator she channels a strange melancholy aura . It’s eerie and hearing her solemnly narrating her eventual death makes that feeling even more intense. However, as her corporeal self, she’s just a poor nurse trying to do her job in a wonky household. She’s not looking for trouble and comes off as endearing. Despite being different, both performances are believable and knowing where Lily’s eventual journey is going to go, makes analyzing her narrative intonations that much more interesting. Wilson makes you want to know why it happened.
The movie fascinated me in its exploration of death and the way it furnishes a source of meaning between people. Everyone has an impact on each other, so even when they die they never vanish. There’s an impact to their existence that pervades and expands, filling out cracks and crevices. The movie makes that idea more literal by having a spectral Lily narrate portions of the movie. There’s a strange perverse pleasure in knowing that the lead you’re following is dead and talks about their death as though they’re still very much there. This is also why the ending worked so well for me. It’s not grandiose in a traditional sense, but it really pulls together all the thematic and story threads in a neat package.
Despite being only 87 minutes, Perkins also knows how to create a sense of dread and eeriness. Shots are slow and diverse. There are gorgeous panning shots and zoom ins that highlight how alone/not alone Lily really is in the house. The camera lingers on the faces of our actresses in a way that flips a masculine gaze. A pretty thing in the frame, but it’s framed for something tragic and otherworldly, rendering it as something that’s difficult to process. There are also no cheap jump scares. Things come into frame and linger. Their presence is what’s terrifying. Not some crazy noise that tells you to be scared of it. That being said, I thought some of the shots felt excessive. I wished there were a few more scenes thrown in that showed more of the mystery of the lives of our lead women ( I would talk about them but that’d be a spoiler). The movie could have swapped out a few of its longer tracking shots for those. I think it would’ve added to the nuance of the themes, without revealing more of the “mystery”.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House is not a movie for everyone. If you want something like The Conjuring, with nice jump scares and a straightforward plot, you won’t get it. This movie thrives on atmosphere and mystery (sometimes a little too much). It comes off as poetic, almost like an Edgar Allen Poe story come to life. It’s provocative, mesmerizing, and will have you genuinely thinking about your impact on the world .
Rating
9.5/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Mackenzie Davis as Kate Finn Wolfhard as Miles Brookylnn Prince as Flora Barbara Marten as Mrs.Grose
Release Date
2020
Language(s)
English
Running Time
94 minutes
January horror is something special. The Grudgedisappointed me. Underwater surprised me by managing to deliver a surprisingly effective thrill ride. As a result, I went into The Turning not knowing what to expect. I left the theater confused and shocked. I personally enjoyed the movie, but think the litany of flaws and issues makes it impossible to recommend outside of a few niche people that can find enjoyment in less than ideal movies.
The story follows Kate, a teacher who takes on a new position as a live-in tutor for a young girl, Flora. As she begins her position and becomes acquainted with her new student, thing start going bump in the night. Soon after, Flora’s brother, Miles drops on in and the absurdity ramps up even harder. In fact, the movie constantly builds up to its climactic reveal. There were multiple times where I thought I had a theory of what happened, but then something else would happen that would contradict what I thought. Then within the last TEN minutes of the movie, the rug is pulled out from the audience’s feet and after a few WTF scenes, the movie ends. The audience at my theater burst out into a sea of “Huhs”, “What just happened?”, and “Are you f*$king kidding me?”. I may not remember the movie, but the ending is something that will stay with me. It’s hard to even categorize as good or bad because it just is.
A lot of the issues in the movie stem from a huge identity crisis. The movie want to teeter on the edge of psychological and supernatural. It wants the audience to not be sure. The issue is that instead of ambiguous directing that hints that there might be more at hand, every hint towards one genre or the other is heavy handed. They explicitly make the genre present as opposed to debatable which takes away a ton of the nuance. This problem becomes even more egregious in the third act, where certain characters start bringing up plot points that were barely touched on before. It feels like the movie didn’t want to commit to any path so it tried to be everything. The result is a mess that’s incomprehensible. It’s disappointing because the movie does a lot well.
For example, I think all the performances are on point. Mandell starts off bubbly and enthusiastic at the opportunity to teach and it comes off genuine (if a little too excited). She slowly becomes a wreck during the movie and feels just as confused as the audience (which definitely helps you relate to her frustrations). Both Wolfhard and Prince are great as the kids. They bounce off each other well and I can totally believe their sibling relationship. I loved Wolfhard in this movie. He’s usually the nice/funny kid but here he’s a total creeper. Weird lines, ominous edge, aggressive tendencies – he displays it all with gusto. That being said, the star of the show is Marten as the housekeeper, Mrs. Grose. She rides the line between creepy and doting well enough to maintain a sense of mystery about the true extent of her involvement in the unraveling horrors.
The movie is also shot and scored well. The camera is steady and there are a lot of picturesque scenes. I expected more shaky cam and jump scares, but the movie is fairly good at scares. There are jump scares, but none of them are patently false. Scares also linger in the background with noise, so you’re always asking yourself if you saw something move. Nathan Barr’s score is also great.
If the elements were just put together in a more coherent plot, I think the movie could’ve been something special. I personally love weird, ambiguous movies that are open to interpretation. The movie either needed to commit to the heart of the mystery it wanted to tell and then make the hints related to the same OR it needed to be consistent in direction at showing certain phenomena (this makes more sense in the spoiler section).
REPORT CARD
TLDR
The Turning is a movie that tries to be too many things and fails to be anything. It’s a suspenseful, harrowing journey that unfortunately doesn’t go anywhere. If you’re okay with awful/incoherent endings or like weird ambiguous movies there might be something here for you. I liked it and still think the movie leaves a lot to be desired. I do think waiting for a rental might be the move though.
Rating
5.5/10
Grade
F
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
