Illustration by Michael DiMilo
Wicked Smart: Film Review of Weapons
★★★★1/2
By Geoff Carter
Last year, after I watched the “X” series of horror films including X, Pearl, and XXX, I was pleasantly surprised to discover filmmakers are still pushing the envelope to redefine the tropes of the horror genre, a trend I’d been following for some time. The “X” series featured elements of dark humor, hag horror, and tongue-in-cheek references to classic horror–like Theda the corpse-eating alligator.
Along with the “X” series, The Substance, Hereditary, Misdommar, Companion, I Saw the TV Glow, and many, many others, modern horror movies have evolved far beyond the scream queen slasher classics like Halloween or Friday the 13th, addressing issues like sexual identity, racisms sexuality, technology, and social media. In the hands of masters like Ari Aster, Robert Eggers, or Jordan Peele, the modern horror film has transcended standard definitions and the audience’s conditioned expectations.
So, when I streamed Zach Cregger’s newest film Weapons, I wasn’t sure what to expect. His other films, including Companion, stretched the envelope of audience expectations with a vicious wit and incisive social satire. I was very pleasantly surprised, although considering Cregger’s work in Companion, I shouldn’t have been.
Weapons begins with a black screen accompanied by a voiceover from a young girl describing the mysterious disappearance of seventeen children who suddenly left their beds in the middle of the night—2:17 to be precise—and fled into the darkness, and never came back. She claims it is a true story.
This effect of this framing not only lends a documentary feel to the narrative—jogging collective memories of children vanishing as a result of school shootings—but sets the scene for another instance of realistic horror: the eagerness of small-town mob mentality to point fingers and create bogeymen. When it’s revealed that the disappeared children had attended the same fourth-grade classroom, the frantic and distraught parents of the missing kids meet in an emotionally charged school meeting to confront Justine Gandy (Julia Garner) the teacher, and so the narrative shifts into a small-town mob frenzy (ala The Wicker Man) combined with a stalker sensibility. We’re scared for her.
The film then breaks the narrative into chapters from significant characters’ points-of-view: Justine, the teacher; Archer (Josh Brolin), a distraught father, Paul (Alden Ehrenreich), a local cop; James (Austin Abrams), a drug addict; Marcus (Benedict Wong), the school principal; and Alex (Cary Christopher), the only child from Justine’s class who did not disappear.
As in Rashomon, or Pulp Fiction, each of these separate narratives reveals a little more information and greater insights than the last, adding clues to the mystery of the missing children. And this is one of the beauties of Weapons. It slowly, almost imperceptibly, morphs from a documentary into a detective story into a horror movie.
Zach Cregger throws in a few red herrings along the way, too, along with some nods to other horror icons. (Is that Pennywise peeking around the tree?). Besides the missing children (It), there is a haunted house in the film, a zombie attack, a bit of a Roald Dahl sensibility, and a touch of “biddy” horror. And parts of it—believe it or not—are laugh-out-loud funny.
Some of the individual scenes are heart-stopping. We never know what’s coming out from behind the mysteriously opening door of that weird house. It opens to a black space which is then sometimes filled and sometimes not–sometimes evil and sometimes not.. These are heart-stopping moments. When a stranger with a pair of scissors comes out and then climbs into the car next to a sleeping Justine, we don’t know what to expect.
In short, there’s something for everyone in Weapons. It is an intricately structured and beautifully written movie. One great touch is Archer’s son, and Alex’s classmate Matt, who is the school bully and every bit as pushy and arrogant as his dad.
The contrasting viewpoints—and experiences—of James, the criminal druggie, provide painful insights into details of the man’s life. He’s more than he seems. Seen first through Paul the policeman’s eyes, he is nothing more than a thieving drug addict. Later, when we follow him in his hand-to-mouth scrabble to exist, he seems pitiful, even sympathetic. By using this sort of non-linear narrative, Cregger is able to peel away layers of our assumptions about James, other characters, and the core of the story itself. The deeper and deeper we go into the film, we not only learn more about the townspeople and the mystery of the missing children, but we are forced to examine our own prejudices and predilections.
As Mr. Cregger peels away layers from his characters as well as deconstructing cliches of the genre, we are left with a delicious blend of breathtaking horror spiced with a healthy dose of psychological reality and a little humor sprinkled in. When the director does reveal the source of the malevolence in Weapons, it is done so subtly and artfully—and with a touch of black humor—it is simply brilliant. When it is followed by one of the most riveting—and harrowing—action-packed conclusions I’ve ever experienced in a horror film, ranking up there with the conclusions of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Sixth Sense.
The performances of the leads, Julia Garner and James Brolin, are beautifully calibrated and layered. As Justine, Garner runs the gamut from the anxiety-ridden and guilt-ridden teacher who cannot explain the disappearances of only children in her classroom. When the town, especially Archer, turns on her, blaming her for the vanishing, her anxiety turns to frustration and anger, and—finally—desperation. It is a subtly articulated performance ranging from a gentle and compassionate educator to a out-and-out stalker. She is a high-voltage wire with a short circuit.
As Archer, Brolin layers his casual masculinity—not quite macho, but close—with his obsession with the disappearance. His work suffers, his marriage seems to be failing, and his determination begins to alienate the community. When he finally reaches an understanding with Justine, his intelligence shines through.
And, as Aunt Gladys, Amy Madigan gives such a seminal performance that does more than dominate the screen; it makes the movie.
I wholeheartedly recommend this movie. Zach Cregger is not only an eminently talented screenwriter and director, but his razor-sharp wit and eye for broad satire enables his films to transcend the genre. His film Companion addressed toxic masculinity and issues of technology. Weapons addresses tribalism, mob mentalities, and the dangers facing our children today. It’s hard not to interpret the film as an allegory for a school shooting. Weapons is a brilliant piece of cinema that I predict will be held up as one of the best of this new generation.