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For a horror movie, Weapons throws on a lot of hats. It's mysterious, funny, and downright terrifying at times. For the second outing of writer/director Zach Cregger (Barbarian), this film offers up a confident command of a stylistic vision. Weapons takes place in small, everytown suburban America where one night, seventeen children from the same classroom get up at the same time in the middle of the night and disappear.
From The Shining to The Sixth Sense and back around to The Ring, the 'creepy kid' has become such a horror icon that it now borders on parody. Weapons' shocks aren't so much focused on the kids themselves, but the reactions of everyone else to their disappearance. Instead, the neatly manicured lawns and empty streets of American suburbia take the front seat.
Cregger commands a confident technical vision. The visual aspects of the film work to tie in the differing perspectives. Early on in the film, Justine (Julia Gardner) receives a phone call with the ominous message of "Watch your back." This seems to be the running concept for the camera, with much of the film shot in long takes, tracking the characters from behind. As the audience, we are indeed "watching their backs," that is, except for when danger approaches. At that point, the camera pans around to the front so the viewer can see how blissfully unaware the characters are of that warning.
The movement is highly dynamic with flowing images that match the visual perspective of whoever we're following in that moment. Although just as much of the story is shared in the sound. Off-camera noises of doors opening, footsteps running, and just out of sight conversations carry as much storytelling as what is shown in the frame. Cregger shares these little moments of sound and the occasional static shot and tells the audience to put two and two together– giving a complete connection between each perspective.
While visually rich, most of the time that passes is shown through match cuts connecting night, day, and location. Although effective in communication, the film hovers on the overuse of its visual motifs. While certainly interesting the first few times, a near-constant formula of track, pan around, cut, grows repetitive and predictable by the middle point of the film.
Because we know the formula, the film struggles to build tension around its scares. Most of these moments are your classic jump scare. Cregger, a founding member of comedy troupe The Whitest Kids U'Know, sets each scare up like a joke. Set-up, misdirection, pay-off. While effective in the moments of humour in the film, it remains technically repetitive.
The film also struggles to set up a proper sinister atmosphere. Partly due to the shifting moments of comedy and terror. While Cregger understands the close relationship between a scream and a laugh, time is dedicated to deciding which of these the film wants next. The focus is put into the emotion it can get out of the audience, at the expense of crafting that sense of dread throughout.
All of the actors deliver excellent performances. Even if the part is small, the script gives them delightfully awkward back-and-forths, meaning every performer has the chance to shine. The actors have great chemistry with one another, making all of their interactions some of the most entertaining moments in the film.
While the twists aren't as hard-hitting as Cregger's last outing, Barbarian – I had successfully guessed the big moments as a spontaneous working theory on my way to the cinema – what the audience does come to discover, feels like a moment out of a fairytale. Or maybe a warning. While I can assume the film tried to have some deeper metaphors, Weapons only ever hints at the fact that it might be trying to say something more.
Overall, Weapons proves itself to be an excellent vehicle to showcase the talents of its director and stars. The film has big ambitions and often doesn't jump high enough to meet them. Cregger takes a big swing with his latest project, and thankfully, manages to hit.
