Uh-oh. Somebody sound the alarms. Rian Johnson has been allowed to make another movie. It's a murder mystery in the vein of Clue. But it's not just any murder mystery. True to RJ form, it — brace yourselves — subverts expectations.
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Are they gone? Have all the juvenile whiners clicked off this page? Oh, good. Now the rest of us can talk about one of the funniest, most tightly-written pieces of entertainment of the year, free of the blind dissension of those still complaining about The Last Jedi in 2019.
That's right, Knives Out is great. And to most people who have seen more than one of Johnson's films, that probably comes as no surprise, but Knives Out is surprising nonetheless. Armed with the best ensemble cast of the year, a clever and relentlessly chuckle-inducing script, and a gorgeous aesthetic to boot, it's a reminder that movies can be brilliant, unconventional, and crowd-pleasing all at once.
Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer) is a beloved and successful mystery novelist. On the night of his 85th birthday, Harlan dies, his body found in his secluded study at the peak of his elegant mansion. For his expansive and dysfunctional family, the tragedy would be easy enough to accept as suicide. But when Lt. Elliott of the local police (Lakeith Stanfield) brings with him world-renowned private sleuth Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), a sort of deep-south rendition of Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot character, the family is confused as to his incentive for joining the investigation. They become particularly concerned when Blanc requests they all remain in the mansion, as he "suspects foul play."
Calling the family dysfunctional is an understatement. The portrait Johnson paints with Harlan's descendants is the epitome of contemporary upper-class entitlement. Each family member is snobbishly repulsive in their own way: his son Walt (Michael Shannon) runs Harlan's publishing company, which essentially means trying to bleed his father's works for every cent of merchandising and film rights; his widowed daughter-in-law Joni (Toni Collette) is a caricature of phony self-care gurus like Gwyneth Paltrow; and his eldest daughter, Linda (Jamie Lee Curtis) is the closest thing to a self-made individual in the family, but she uses that mostly to lord over her siblings as silent certification that she's superior.
Harlan's other colorful kin include an alt-right Internet troll of a grandson, a two-faced neoliberal granddaughter, and a dodgy son-in-law in Linda's husband Richard (Don Johnson). And then there's his grown-up, rogue grandson Ransom (Chris Evans), who's no less spoiled than the rest of the bunch, but at least appears to have the perspective to realize and resent how entitled the rest of his family is.
Amidst all the vitriolic yuppies gathered at the Thrombey estate is meek and mild Marta Cabrera (Ana de Armas), Harlan's personal caregiver and confidante. Upon questioning every individual in the house, Blanc unofficially recruits Marta as his partner in all this, due to her close connection with Harlan and a comedically literal inability to lie.
To speak any further about the plot itself would be giving away too many juicy details, as it becomes apparent early on that Knives Out is not going to follow the course of your average whodunit. "Whodunit," in fact, becomes less important as the story goes on, and Johnson is, smartly, more interested in the pointed commentary and pure satisfaction to be had in dismantling this rotted, nasty excuse for a family from the inside. Even at the very surface of the script, Johnson wants to make it clear who he's jabbing at, and he does so with gusto. There's an overt modernity to this caper, with characters frequently displaying symptoms of this Age of (Mis)Information we live in. And most of it sticks the difficult landing.
But the fun of Knives Out extends far beyond its critique of the contemporary. It's devilishly fun just to watch this massively talented cast play a bunch of rich assholes and wield Johnson's sharp tongue at one another. Johnson manages a consistent, snappy flow of wit from one character to the next, without ever descending into Sorkin-esque homogeneity in the characters' voices. The real mastery is how vibrantly and uniquely despicable each of these caricatures are.
Daniel Craig's molasses-y, antebellum accent and refined posture as Benoit Blanc are highlights, for sure, as are Ana de Armas and Chris Evans. De Armas is a perfect audience anchor-point and gets to show a lot of range here, and it's fun to see Evans back to his antics as a smug asshole after such a long stint as Hollywood's most iconic boy scout.
Also Wonderful (honestly, what isn't?) is the production design and cinematography. Most of the film takes place within or around the Thrombey mansion, with only a few short sequences taking place elsewhere. Really, no other locations were needed; the mansion is gorgeous, detailed, and diverse; its crown jewel is the knife-laden throne in the library. Johnson and his trusty DP Steve Yedlin make some phenomenal uses of wide-angle lenses and framing techniques here. It's not showy, attention-grabbing photography in the way most award-winners are, but it's impressively subtle and effective.
Knives Out is a gorgeous, quick-witted, detailed, and deceptively potent piece of cinema, and one that isn't above simply reveling in being a good time at the movies. Rian Johnson has done it again; expect the unexpected, or don't — you're sure to be impressed either way.