The grisly events in the house rental horror film “Barbarian” are a better advertisement for staying in a hotel than anything the Canadian Hotel & Lodging Association could have dreamed up.
The story begins with Tess (Georgina Campbell) pulling up in front of an Airbnb in the rundown neighborhood of Brightmoor in Detroit. Turns out, the only house on the block without broken windows or a kicked-in front door, is doubled booked, and Keith (Bill Skarsgård), is already settled in. She booked on Airbnb, he booked on another site, wires were crossed, but instead of sending her out in the rain to find another place to stay, he invites her in. You take the bed, he says, I’ll sleep on the coach. She reluctantly agrees, won over by his charm and seemingly good-guy vibes.
After lights out, strange things happen. At first, it’s creepy but explainable, like creaky old doors that open and close by themselves, but, the next day, when she goes to the basement to retrieve some supplies, the house reveals a dark secret.
Cut to Los Angeles, present day, and the worst moment of self-involved television star AJ Gilbride’s (Justin Long) life. Accused of sexual impropriety by a co-star, he’s fired from his show and is the subject of an exposé in the Hollywood Reporter. His career in tatters and his bank account running dry, he decides to sell off assets, including an Airbnb property he owns in Brightmoor, Detroit. “I’m not here on vacation,” he tells his lawyer as he lands in Michigan. “I’m here for some liquidity.”
As the story of Tess and AJ collide, “Barbarian” takes one last left turn, this time to Detroit, circa the Reagan years, with the origin story of the innocent looking house’s evil.
“Barbarian” is an audacious thriller with a heaping handful of solid scares. Director Zach Cregger zigs and zags, trusting the audience to hang on for the wild ride. It’s worth the trip. The tense atmosphere of Tess and Keith’s story gives way to AJ’s MeToo cautionary tale and the sinister origin story before throwing it all into the hopper to create a genre-busting final third act. Nothing is off the table as the movie tackles the worst of human nature, narcissism, murder and even incest. It’s a heady mix that should have you moving toward the edge of your seat.
“Barbarian” is one of the rare, recent horror movies that truly keeps the viewer off balance throughout. It’s never clear where the story is going, and that off-the-hook storytelling keeps the creepy story compelling. It’s a roller coaster in which only one thing is clear: Never rent an Airbnb built over a catacomb.
I join CTV Atlantic’s Todd Battis to talk about the charming “Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom,” the historical drama “The Weight” and the bloody good time of “Resident Evil.”
I join CTV NewsChannel anchor Renée Rodgers to talk about the charming “Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom,” the historical drama “The Weight” and the bloody good time of “Resident Evil.”
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to wind your watch. Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the charming “Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom,” the historical drama “The Weight” and the bloody good time of “Resident Evil.”
SYNOPSIS: The second reboot and eighth film overall in the “Resident Evil” film series, the new horror comedy sees a medical courier fight for survival in Raccoon City amid a sudden viral outbreak.
CAST: Austin Abrams, Zach Cherry, Kali Reis, Paul Walter Hauser. Directed by Zach Cregger.
REVIEW: Set during one dangerous night, the reimagined “Resident Evil” begins with on a regular day for medical courier Bryan (Austin Abrams). Asked to do one more run, he agrees when he finds out, “It’s outside the zone, so it pays double.” As night falls, he sets off to Raccoon City General, precious cargo in hand, as a viral leak from pharmaceutical and biotechnology giant Umbrella Corporation turns people into violent mutants.
As the infected hunt for humans, Bryan tries to stay one step ahead during the chaos, as Umbrella attempts to contain and cover up the epidemic. Using borrowed phones Bryan unsuccessfully tries to contract the police and explain to his unimpressed girlfriend why he’s detained.
With his life hanging in the balance the bumbling Bryan must turn from hapless to hero.
“Resident Evil” delivers the thrills and gore you expect from “Barbarian” and “Weapons” director Zach Cregger, but it is its dark sense of humor that surprises. Darkly funny, the movie offers laughs and jump scares in equal measure as Bryan narrowly escapes the perils of a post infection world.
Horror fans will appreciate the genuinely creepy atmosphere. It’s a dark world that allows Cregger to explore the nasty stuff hiding in the shadows, showing just enough to set the viewers imaginations on fire.
When we do finally get a look at the tentacled creatures—think John Carpenter’s “The Thing”—or an acid-vomiting zombie, or the bloated blood sacs, they provide a primal blast of old-school horror that’s the good gory stuff horror fans buy tickets to see.
In other scenes when people get shot or squished, infected or otherwise, they don’t simply lay down and die. Instead, they explore in a fireworks pattern of plasma and viscera. It’s wet and squishy enough to make you simultaneously cringe and cackle.
At the film’s heart is Austin Abrams as everyman Bryan. He doesn’t have a lot of meaningful dialogue, he mostly mumbles to himself in frustration, but as a good guy in over his head, he’s easy to get on side with. Abrams, who is on screen for 95% of the film’s brisk 90-minute runtime, carries the movie with an exasperated everyman charm.
“Resident Evil” is a straightforward movie. Cregger, working from a script he co-wrote with Shay Hatten, keeps the story simple, refusing to let the action get bogged down by backstory or exposition. It’s an uncomplicated story of survival, buoyed by gloriously grotesque effects and a winning lead performance.
SYNOPSIS: In the new horror film “Weapons” a community is left reeling when all but one child from Justine Gandy’s elementary classroom mysteriously vanish from their homes. “Whatever took those kids isn’t something you can fight,” says police officer Paul Morgan (Alden Ehrenreich).
CAST: Josh Brolin, Julia Garner, Cary Christopher, Alden Ehrenreich, Austin Abrams, Benedict Wong, and Amy Madigan. Directed by Zach Cregger.
REVIEW: “Weapons” feels like the horror story Stephen King never wrote.
Like so many of King’s sinister novels, “Weapons” takes place in a tightly knit community, an ordinary place touched by supernatural terror. There’s dark humor, missing kids and the kind of unimaginable creeping dread that made King a millionaire.
But it’s not King, it’s Zach Cregger, one of the new kings of offbeat horror. His last film, 2002s “Barbarian,” was an audacious thriller about an evil Airbnb rental that delivered a heaping handful of solid scares and off-the-hook storytelling.
Creggar ups the ante with “Weapons.” As he did with “Barbarian,” he adds flourishes to a simple but effective premise to create textured, complex storytelling.
Like I said, the inciting incident is simple: One morning, at 2:17 am, seventeen children, all schoolmates, ran into the darkness and disappeared.
The question at the film’s heart—Where did they go, and why?—is the catalyst for an ambitious story that blends the points of view of six residents, teacher Miss Gandy (Julia Garner), Alex (Cary Christopher), the one student who stayed behind, school principal Marcus (Benedict Wong), police officer Paul (Alden Ehrenreich), drug addict James (Austin Abrams) and parent Archer Graff (Josh Brolin) who says, “If my boy’s out there, I’ll tear this town apart to find him.”
Cregger handles the material with a deft hand, effectively building a relatable, ordinary world where terrible things happen. The eerie disappearances are dealt with quickly before the movie commits to its study of grief and trauma via six interconnected vignettes that dig deep into the lives of the main characters. As such, for most of its runtime “Weapons” is more about the aftermath of the disappearances, and how the characters deal with tragedy, anger and the bizarre nature of the vanishings, than the disappearances themselves.
The film’s vignettes eventually dovetail, leaving behind a trail of jump scares, dark humor, introspection and tension that leads to a cathartic climax. A mix of gruesome horror, surreal farce and surprise, it is unexpected and unexpectedly funny. Cregger navigates the story’s tonal twists and turns like a pro, bending the film’s unusual structure to his will to deliver an exciting, entertaining movie that is as hilarious as it is horrifying.
