Much like Longlegs last year, Weapons may just win the award for best viral marketing strategy for this year. But honestly, stellar marketing aside, as soon as I heard that Jordan Peele was reportedly so pissed that his production studio lost the bidding war for this film that he fired the managers meant to seal the deal. Now, whether that’s overblown tabloid drama or not, it still got me wondering what exactly was the deal with weapons. It’s got a simple enough premise; an entire classroom of kids up and leaving their homes one night at 2:17am, leaving parents and faculty stumped. There’s so much to explore beyond that premise that I kind of worried that, also like Longlegs, it may buckle under the weight of its own hype. But I’m happy to report that Weapons is in fact all that and seven hotdogs. 

Writer and director Zach Cregger, who delivered on the twistedly hilarious Barbarian a few years back, has found a way to one-up himself with a bigger, bolder horror film that takes all of the subversive and creative elements that made Barbarian so fun and up it tenfold. This is yet another film that is far more than what it seems, breaking the mold of what you expect from modern horror thanks to a fun and energetic filmmaking style that also remembers to be a capital M MOVIE. I’m talking interesting, grounded and realistic characters, a smartly weaving narrative and a sometimes unexpected but effective sense of humor. Yet it knows when to be tense, haunting and frightening in both the visual and metaphorical sense. I’ve seen a lot of people say that this movie isn’t “about anything”, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Is it always the most airtight and clean metaphor? No, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to take away from here. This is one of those films that I would truly call a modern horror film, and I can’t wait to talk about it with as little spoilers as possible.

Let’s start with the performances, mostly because it’s crazy to think about how different of a film this could have been. Pedro Pascal, Renate Reinsve and Brian Tyree Henry were all attached, but due to the 2023 Hollywood strikes, the film had to be almost completely recast. I’m sure that would still have been a fine film, but I’m grateful we got to see the cast we got absolutely kill it. Jennifer Garner may just be the strongest performances here, which is nothing new if you’ve watched her other two films from this year. She plays Justine Gandy, the teacher of the disappeared class who becomes the target of a witch hunt when authorities and parents can’t seem to find answers. She is phenomenal, really helping to flesh out a character that could have been very one-noted or stereotypical, but ends up having a bit of edge. Her targeting for this mystery isn’t wholly justified, but she’s not a saint either. She has her own demons which just makes it easier to point the finger at her, garnering both sympathy and even a little disdain from the audience at the same time. Then there’s Josh Brolin, who is refreshing to see in something without a $200 million budget for a change. He plays one of the most vocal parents in this tragedy, looking for answers and, of course, wrestling with the regret of what was or wasn’t said before his son’s disappearance. Very emotional and very understandable why he’s looking to find a culprit as soon as he can, hoping to direct his pain into an anger that he probably knows won’t fulfill him.

These two are the main stars, but I was completely blindsided by some of these standout supporting performances. Alden Ehrenreich plays a pathetic cop with a complicated romantic relationship with Justine, who ends up having one hell of a self-destructive 48 hours. He has a moment where his emotions severely get in the way of solving this mystery, and I think you’d be fair to draw some commentary on officers acting on emotions rather than duty from this kind of characterization. There’s also a tweaked-out thief played by Austin Abrams, who is actually one of the few original cast members to stay on the project. Simply the funniest performance of the film; just a detestable guy who gets what’s coming to him due to his selfishness. Benedict Wong, who plays the school’s principal, is such a sweet and earnest performance, but that’s not what you’re gonna remember him for. What this man does with his eyes in this is nothing short of frightening. And finally, gotta give it to Cary Christopher who plays Alex, the one kid from the class that didn’t disappear. Simply one of the best child actor performances I’ve seen from horror in a while, along with one of the most smartly written as well. There’s one more character I wish I could talk about, but I’ll refrain so as to not spoil much. But as soon as you see them, you’ll be like, “Yeah, this one’s for the sickos.”

What really took me by surprise as well is the narrative structure of this film. Weapons is told in a fractured, non-linear manner that constantly shifts perspectives from one character to another, very reminiscent of a film like Magnolia. It’s a ton of fun, controlling the release of information that can also add clarity to elements of previous scenes. It also uses this in a very similar way to Barbarian, completely upending the narrative to throw you for a loop in a way that subverts you but still makes sense. It does kind of feel like the film is a lot longer than it is as we continuously see the same day through different eyes, but it never felt like it was dragging. That is thanks in part to the absolute mastercraft in filmmaking and storytelling happening here. There’s a ton of smart and creative uses of the camera, especially in a lot of intense scenes of running and driving. Frenetic isn’t the right word, but there’s still a noticeable energy behind it and it really feels like it’s being used as a tool to tell the story rather than just show it. And a lot of these high intensity scenes are capped with absolutely brutal displays of violence that’s absolutely gonna satisfy some of you sickos. But when it’s time to slow things down, there’s an ample amount of tense pacing that manages to unnerve you through sheer implication. All of these scenes have great payoff, never really feeling cheap by managing to telegraph the inevitable to you. There’s a great nightmare sequence with Brolin’s character that keeps repeating the same shot that you just know is gonna change at some point, but that waiting just gnaws at you until then. And, like most of us would probably do, Brolin awakens in a sweat with a loud “What the fuck?”.

Much like Barbarian, this thing is surprisingly super funny, though not to a point where you could call it a horror comedy. In truth, it uses comedy to ground the characters and make them more relatable, or in some cases, apply a moment of levity when things have been quite heavy. Somehow the film avoids tonal whiplash, mostly because it becomes apparent that it’s aiming to be a crowd-pleasing film unlike most elevated horror films that kinda just want you to soak in the despair. Because of that, the vibe I got from this was a bit of a mix of Sam Raimi and even Steven Spielberg, managing to balance the humorous and the grotesque with moving and layered characters that drive home the realness of what’s happening.

So, what does it all mean? What’s the greater metaphor behind it all, because every critically acclaimed modern horror movie needs one, right? It feels very obvious that the event of the kid’s disappearance is supposed to be very parallel to the tragedy of school shootings. I mean, at one point it’s literally beating you over the head with the notion. An entire classroom is gone and everyone is left to wonder why. A senseless act needs to have someone responsible, but even that’s not good enough. How did we get to this point? Why did we get to this point? These are some of the questions that get asked, and unfortunately, there isn’t always a universally right answer. And that’s where the deeper meaning of the film can get a bit hazy. There’s a few different directions you can go, but I don’t think Cregger exactly subscribes to one singular point. Maybe the answer falls on the parents, who could have caught signs of this tragedy if they were just a bit more involved. Or maybe it’s something out of their control; something in the outside world that will influence their children without their say. But the film isn’t trying to give a definitive answer, but rather, it’s trying to examine the aftermath; the emotions, the pain, and for me, the meaning behind the title Weapons.

The film gives you a very literal answer for this, and you’d be right to just leave it there and call it a day. But for me, I think you could also view the act itself as the weapon. Tragedy has always and will always be used to make a statement about something. Gun control, video games, societal culture as a whole; all of these are going to be pointed to in order to push some kind of belief or narrative. Tragedy is weaponized whether we know we’re doing it or not, and often, it can be misguided, much like a parent’s anger in searching for justice. I don’t know if any of that was Cregger’s intention, but I think this is one of those films that captures a modern, suburban horror that goes beyond just the psychological torment of the mundanity. But even if I’m just pulling meaning out of my ass, this is still a highly entertaining and effective horror movie. At times it may feel like that’s all it’s trying to be, which may actually work to make it less alienating to those who aren’t a fan of the more modern stylings of horror. Maybe it isn’t as full circle as it could have been, and maybe the ending is a case of you either loving it for its crowd pleasing wrap up or hating it for going against the ideas it had put in place, but I highly implore you to see this regardless. Cregger has cemented himself as a modern force that can stand among the likes of Peele and Eggers, and I cannot wait to see what he does yet. Even if it’s a Resident Evil movie. 7th time’s the charm, I guess?

RATING

★★★

There are echoes of the Jordan Peele in Zach Cregger’s ascendancy from sitcom frequenter to horror messiah. Indeed, much as was the case for Peale’s Get Out, Cregger already finds himself proclaimed the voice of his jump scare generation after just one frightener. In some quarters, at least. That first round – a satiating palette teaser if ever one were – was 2022’s big-time over-performer Barbarian, AirBnb thriller and bidding war instigator. Indeed, Cregger’s sophomore potential lured even Peele himself from the woodwork. Peele’s failure to secure Cregger’s script proved so crushing to him that it would ultimately see him split from his management. Contentious stuff but perhaps unsurprising. More has been spent on Weapons than Barbarian made in profit. It’s not just the expectation that’s high with this one, then. 

For the most part, the film delivers. A fairy tale nasty with a killer hook and a clutch of terrific central performances. Each gets a turn in the spotlight, with a multi-chapter framework and perspective-driven photography allowing for a slow drip, if disparate, release of narrative truths and tension. Cinematographically speaking, Weapons proves Barbarian to have been no fluke. Cregger’s eye for the unnerving remains striking, with shot after shot cruising into the memory. There’s a thrilling nighttime long shot that holds firm as the foe draws in, while early footage of the missing children fleeing their homes can’t help but echo the distressing image of Vietnam’s Napalm Girl, mixed with a little of the Spielbergian innocence.

The visuals grow only more disturbing as the film’s first hour creeps into its second. Shared too, however, are the scripting construction flaws that held Barbarian back from the very upper echelons of horror. It’s all a little too self-conscious in design and, what with the haunted house, creepy kids and witchy undertones…perhaps too obvious? A melange of tropes, terrifically executed, but somewhat incongruous in deployment.

At 2:17 A.M. in the town of Maybrook, seventeen children from the same class simultaneously leave their homes and vanish. Only two remain. There’s young Alex Lily (Cary Christopher), wide eyed, shell shocked, saying nothing and claiming ignorance. Alex came to school as normal that day but, between his eccentric Aunt and darkened home, something feels decidedly off. The other survivor – early in the film, clear allegorical parallels are drawn between the children’s disappearance and the real world classroom massacres that belie justification for America’s lax gun laws – is Julia Garner’s gamine Miss Gandy. Thirty days on, angry parents cry fowl at her protestations of innocence, mobbing her appearances at the school and debasing her life outwit it.

Miss Gandy’s is the first, and most compelling, of the film’s pocketed perspectives. Fragility and fire drive her between the bottle and a compulsion to learn the truth. Other angles come from a philandering police officer (Alden Ehrenreich), a homeless drug addict (Austin Abrams), the school’s inept principal (Benedict Wong), and the father of one of the missing children (Josh Brolin). The conceit has perks but increasingly frustrates, stealing the audience of the opportunity to follow the mystery to its natural apex through the surrogacy of a central protagonist. Each chapter takes us a step back, with each new character less cognoscente of the progression than their predecessor.

Cregger plays his hand sooner than one might expect, bursting the mystery and thrusting his film down an entertainingly grim left field. It’s a kitchen sink approach that delivers big on schlock and nauseous thrill to the occasional expense of logic and a sharper sleight of hand. Having opened with such pointed potential, this can’t help but feel a shame, Cregger punching a mite lower than he might have been able to with a firmer hand on the rudder.

T.S.