Speak No Evil (2024)

Score: 2.5 / 5

Apologies for the lateness: I had determined to not pay to watch this film, so I had to wait until it was streaming. The original film is one that I watched back in 2022 when it was released to such critical ravings, and I hated it so much that when an American remake was announced so soon, I swore it off. Conceptually, it's not unlike the erotic thrillers of the '80s or '90s, though with less erotics and more didactics; its horror emerges from its characters' consternation about maintaining civility in the face of weaponized politeness. The original Danish/Dutch film isn't aesthetically like those American thrillers but rather like Michael Haneke's Funny Games, almost coldly detached and unemotionally glib when the unspeakable occurs.

Adapted and directed by James Watkins (Eden Lake, The Woman in Black), this remake did a couple of great things, and I think special attention should be drawn to that. Casting choices are stellar, though the Dalton family of protagonists -- including Scoot McNairy and Mackenzie Davis doing admirably dedicated work -- will largely be ignored in favor of James McAvoy's casting as the antagonist. His character, father and physician Paddy, and that of his shockingly young wife (Aisling Franciosi, of The Nightingale, Stopmotion, The Last Voyage of the Demeter, and Irish series The Fall, among others) are pure adrenaline rushes onscreen. McAvoy's talent for physical performance feels naturally evolved here after his turn in Split, and while the actors are all playing reliable "types" they've played before, his is just unhinged enough to feel fresh and dangerous in every scene-stealing beat. He's playing the whole thing with so many nonverbal undercurrents of sexual threat, domineering toxicity, backwoods charm, homebody authenticity, and freak show glee that it's hard to tell when (or if, ever) he's being genuine or calculating, rational or crazy, like a jack-in-the-box always on the verge of bursting open.

It also did something really bad right away, and that should also be addressed, though perhaps separately from the film itself. You can't really judge a film by its marketing, but I do think it's best not to spoil your own film in your own marketing. This advertising campaign all but ruined the film for anyone who saw even a single trailer, because its main twist was revealed every time! And while it's arguably true that, as it's not a mystery film by generic conventions, the twist shouldn't really matter, that that twist is what makes the story compelling and worth telling at all should force it to be kept secret, at least for those not already in the know. I could not believe every trailer and tv spot spoiled it; in case you miraculously haven't seen any at this point, I won't spoil it by detailing the plot now.

That said, Watkins very intelligently -- very graciously, in my opinion -- changes the climax and finale of this film in significant ways. So much so, in fact, that I actually found myself begrudgingly glad to have finally seen it. Again, no spoilers, but the original ending is as bleak and disturbing as its premise promises. The remake, however, offers a much different ending that arguably undermines the thematic point of the original but suggests perhaps a different ethical code by which we might discuss the film's ideas. Nihilistic horror has its place in the world, some of which I truly enjoy, but that this remake doesn't give us the same dosage and rather enacts a more progressive, more redemptive series of events endeared it to me right around the time I was debating whether to turn it off and avoid the denouement.

As a much more fun and engaging -- and bombastically acted -- version of the same story, I have to recommend this over its predecessor. That said, it's the kind of wacky flick best enjoyed in the company of other like-minded friends, particularly those willing to shout at the characters for being stupid and stubborn. Some movies just call for that, and that kind of interactivity would make this a rewarding viewing experience communally. Just as the changed ending matches its kinetic, even antic energy better, begging us for a different viewing experience than the hushed nightmarish malevolence of the original, this film's ending also changes the metaphoric focus of its critique: this film is slightly less about social etiquette and maintaining a veneer of politeness than it is about the nature of seductive gaslighting and the cyclical momentum in abusive relationships that makes it so hard to leave. I suspect many a relationship therapist would recognize that in this film, and it could make for useful teaching methods in helping those stuck in such situations recognize their own trapped behaviors.