A Quiet Place: Day One (2024)

Score: 3.5 / 5

Our welcome return to the Quiet Place world won't likely usurp the first two films in fan rankings, but it has a lot to offer new fans as well as those of us craving more emotional horror these days. That's what differentiated the first two entries: two of the scariest PG-13 movies I'd ever seen, they work best as family dramas with unbearably high stakes in the face of raw horror. While we've already seen some of the events of "day one" of the apparent apocalypse in this film in the intro to Part II, this film acts as a spin-off to the series, dramatizing the events of that initial alien invasion from the perspective of a totally new character. In fact, apart from the aliens themselves and a cameo appearance of Djimon Hounsou, a secondary character in Part II, Day One could have been completely unrelated to the existing series.

I won't bother with the plot because a) there's not much to this story beyond plot and b) marketing gave away the whole thing already. Day One is very much an actor's horror movie, and director and writer Michael Sarnoski can patently handle that. Sarnoski's previous (debut) feature film was Pig, and if you saw that you might wonder how his penchant for dank, dismal tension will translate to big-budget inner city action horror. Indeed, I'm still wondering that after seeing the film, because it mostly doesn't. What does translate is his ability to evoke and capture stirring performances from actors at the tops of their games, and here Lupita Nyong'o and Joseph Quinn prove more than excellent at their daunting roles, wherein the real heavy lifting is in their physical work and facial acting. They are the beating heart (and most other vital organs) of this film, and they drove me to tears more than once.

Sarnoski's handle on pacing is also pretty firm, allowing the emotional beats of the film to flow with a logic the rest of it seldom demonstrates. While the reason for Nyong'o's character Sam fixating on getting a slice of pizza at a particular restaurant is about as opaque a MacGuffin as you could find, the way she (and we) navigate a crumbling Manhattan crawling with sound-hunting killing machines feels earned and satisfying. Even when it shouldn't. For example, her cat (named Frodo, which is an endearing if obnoxious inclusion) never strays far and doesn't make a sound. Too, Sam's determination to walk boldly through open, dusty avenues shouldn't be as easy or bloodless as it so often is here. And how, exactly, did the officials learn that the alien predators can't swim and so citizens are safest on large barges circumnavigating the city? It's all quite fast and convenient, and the practicalities offer far more loopholes than answers for the discerning viewer.

It's the kind of thing that makes me wish John Krasinski had returned to helm this installment. His palpable ability to write and direct multiple threads as they become hopelessly taut in thrilling, action-heavy climaxes would have made this film incredible. It's War of the Worlds but silent, and in one of the largest cities on Earth. In Sarnoski's hands, the setpieces feel cobbled together and half-baked, with enough plotholes and inconsistencies in the brief bits of action to distract from the horror itself. There is almost no tension between these setpieces either, with cinematography and music emphasizing Sam's lonely journey through a city of ghosts. Any story with the premise this has should lean much farther into action and horror than this one does. Otherwise, it could (and should) have been set in a smaller city, one that is believable as such and not as overdressed soundstages. The sweeping vistas of NYC here are never convincing, and are not helped by cinematography so suffused with amber atmosphere they don't look like part of the real world.

It wouldn't need to be a survival thriller if the film fully embraced the existential crisis of its protagonist. Sam's terminal cancer seems to make her at times despondent, but she exhibits certain fighting instincts that belie a depth of character. Why doesn't Sarnoski explore that further? Instead, each time the screenplay gets close to revealing intriguing perspective on what really matters to her as she slowly dies or to the world as it quickly collapses, the film backpedals and broadens its scope again, avoiding tough ruminations on the toughest of questions. And, whether it's the result of poor initial writing or studio interference with the final product, the film clips along at too quick a pace, pushing its characters and audience through a hurried, harried experience that feels antithetical to the tone and themes established in the first two films.

It's not a technically or dramatically inept film, it's just a bit of a disappointment for the franchise. Day One is still a fun ride, and one that hopefully opens the doors for more installments. It does offer, and I think this is important, notable deviation from the political aspects of the original film; there have been some quiet observations about the rural white family and their survivalist behaviors that are curiously absent from wider discourse about the series that offer really interesting readings and implications. Here, with its casting choices and remarkable acting, those concerns are completely sidestepped, which I applaud as both risky and necessary for the series to continue. And I certainly hope it does continue, and soon. Just not with Sarnoski's involvement.