The Front Room
A24's latest genre offering is cinema of discomfort, but not without its gnarly charms.
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A24’s latest horror offering “The Front Room” (now in theaters) is the feature directorial debut of Robert Eggers’ younger, half, twin siblings Max and Sam Eggers. The work suggests their big brother’s stuff – especially in scatological moments (this movie’s seriously pee-pee and poo-poo-centric) recalling “The Lighthouse” (which Max co-wrote with Robert) and “The Northman” – but more closely resembles the films of fellow A24 genre darling Ari Aster. Much like Aster’s movies this is cinema of discomfort made to agitate and irritate.
R&B songstress Brandy Norwood stars as Belinda, a philosophy professor in a mixed-race marriage with lawyer Norman (Andrew Burnap), who’s a decade or so her junior. After losing their son in child birth a few years prior, the couple has been blessed with another pregnancy – this time a daughter.
When Norman’s estranged father passes away, they’re beckoned to his funeral by Norman’s stepmother Solange (Kathryn Hunter). Norman doesn’t care for Solange and wants nothing to do with her, but she makes he and Belinda (whom she incessantly calls Belinder) an offer they can’t refuse. She’s old, sick and at death’s door and wants to be moved into their home to live out her final days. If they acquiesce she’ll pay off their mortgage and will her entire sizable estate to them, which would wholly alleviate their financial woes.
As soon as Solange is moved into the home she begins saying racist things to Belinda, redecorates their house, forces her religion upon the couple, attempts to turn Norman against Belinda and frequently pisses and shits herself. It’s far from an ideal situation presented graphically in a wipe, rinse, repeat fashion.
I strongly believe “The Front Room” is a single service picture that will likely ostracize a majority of its audience. I’m glad I saw it and was often entertained by its darkly comedic tone, but it certainly won’t be for all tastes.
Norwood, who I haven’t seen in a movie since 1998’s “I Still Know What You Did Last Summer,” acquits herself well. Her Belinda is highly sympathetic and Norwood admirably reacts to the horrors that befall her character.
The real reason to see “The Front Room” is Hunter, an actress who’s made a habit out of being outstanding in movies I’m only so-so on of late – the other being Joel Coen’s “The Tragedy of Macbeth.” Solange is a singular villain I won’t soon shake. She’s as freaky as she is funny and is definitely one of the more annoying characters in recent memory. Hunter won’t be remembered come awards season, but she probably should be for so vividly capturing this crone’s contemptuousness.
I’ll leave y’all with this – “The Front Room” is the most messed up movie featuring a Norwood since Kim Kardashian and Ray J’s sex tape and the family at the center of it is every bit as screwy as the one that received fame in the wake of that diddle ditty.