In an age where every studio film gets multiple teasers, trailers, and teasers for trailers (along with more headlines and social media discourse than anyone could possibly read), it’s rare to come across a movie that holds onto its best secrets anymore.
As someone who’s always trying to keep up with new releases, I find it increasingly difficult to walk into a movie “cold,” with little-to-no idea what I’m getting into. I know a few people in my film-savvy circles who refuse to watch trailers, precisely for this reason. I tried that for awhile. The problem is, I like trailers. We all have our vices.
But I watched the Barbarian trailer. Hell, I watched both Barbarian trailers. And when I got to the theater to see the film, I still had no idea what I was in for. That’s a thrilling feeling, particularly with a horror movie.
And the best part: that feeling didn’t fade after the film started. Barbarian waits until deep within its runtime to begin revealing the terrors you’ve signed up for. The way this movie plays its cards close to the vest, even into its second half, made for one of the best theatrical horror experiences I’ve had in a long time.
I’ll tell you about as much as the trailer tells you, because it’s enough:
Tess (Georgina Campbell) rented an Airbnb for her night stay in Detroit. She shows up after dark, in a storm, with nowhere else to go, only to find out that the place has been double-booked. See, Keith (Bill Skarsgård) is already here, and he has the house rented for the whole weekend.
Keith invites Tess in to hang out where it’s warm and dry while she looks for a hotel. No luck; there’s a convention in town that’s got ‘em all booked up. Raised to be a traditional gentleman, Keith gives up the bedroom so Tess can sleep there.
Tess accepts the offer, uneasy but unsure of what else to do. She begins to regret that decision as soon as things start to go “bump” in the night.
Anyone who’s been at the mercy of a stranger in a vulnerable situation, particularly at night, should be able to tap into the suspense of this film even in its early moments. Writer-director Zach Cregger portrays the experience confidently, and with a sickening awareness of how the circumstances might make us, the audience, wince and laugh uncomfortably as Keith repeatedly misses the mark at making Tess feel at-ease in her precarious position.
Cregger is all too aware of Skarsgård’s recognizability as Pennywise the Clown, and smartly swings him the other way. But he leaves enough concern lingering in our brains to keep us guessing. Keith may be a dopey heartthrob (with a typical dose of masculine ignorance), but not a crazy killer… right? He’s a nice guy who just doesn’t understand why his questions and propositions would make a woman uncomfortable. Could he be up to something more sinister? Is something even worse stalking both of them? It’s a simple guessing game that Cregger and crew play to maximal effect.
Campbell and Skarsgård play their early scenes together with a convincing discomfort. I could have watched a whole movie just about a completely-not-horrific-but-still-pretty-weird weekend in which two strangers have to occupy the same space and navigate the murky uncertainties of that social environment.
But of course, Barbarian can’t stop there. Screams ring out from the basement. Hidden doors force themselves open and shut. A room with nothing but a camera and a stained mattress begs question after question about what’s really going on.
These these are just the beginning of the brutal and comically bleak frights Cregger has in store. And the way he reveals them, with increasing absurdity and frantic camera work (landing somewhere between Sam Raimi and Neveldine & Taylor), makes for a rollercoaster of suspense, silliness, and sweet comeuppance.
It hurts not to be able to get deeper into the scares, dark laughs, and social themes Cregger conjures up with Barbarian in this review. But it would hurt more to take away the experience of watching it unfold from a new viewer.
Just go check it out. Enjoy the ride. Personally, I’ll be paying close attention to whatever Cregger does next.