You’re Next is an
“…and then all but one dies” horror movie. In this case a couple celebrates
their 35th wedding anniversary by inviting their grown children and their
significant others to spend the weekend…and then all but one dies. The deaths
involve stabbings mainly, although a few other forms of bodily harm are
deployed. The killers are the creeps in animal masks – pure white rubber things
– who are otherwise completely dressed in black and lurking around outside this
dark evening. They interrupt the festivities during dinner, conveniently
interrupting a burgeoning tiff between two of the brothers, by shooting arrows
from a crossbow into the dining room. What an anniversary present, huh? The
movie proceeds in much the way you’d expect, with dark corridors and ominous
noises and threatening shapes that move into the back of the frame out of focus
before mysteriously disappearing before causing harm. The better to scare us
later, I guess.
The hows and whys of the whole ordeal come to light by the
film’s end, however unconvincingly and forced. By then I had pretty much
stopped caring, but almost appreciated the movie’s dedication to placing
payoffs before setup to a certain extent, except in the case of agonizingly
obvious setups that take forever to pay off. When it comes to grading horror
movies, a certain amount of arbitrary physical response factors into the final
judgment. You’re Next is trying so
hard to scare, with a trembling score that kicks up every time we’re supposed
to be on the edge of our seats and portentous framing that lingers compulsively
on sharp objects and doors ajar. It’s so repetitively insistent on its
scariness and suspense that I found myself worn out from a lack of response on
my part. I sat there with the hair on the back of my neck firmly flat, the
flesh of my arms resolutely unmarked by goosebumps, my heart rate steady, my
spine without even the slightest tingle.
There’s something to be said for the ritualistic appeal of horror
movies, even if they don’t make for an entertaining experience in and of
themselves. Here we have the cold open kills, followed by a smash cut to setup
as the characters gather in a big house in the country. It starts out as
something of a bland family dramedy if it weren’t for the score going about its
ominous business in the background and the camera prone to slinking off to find
the odd bits of foreshadowing placed in corners of its attention. There’s the
freshly retired father (Rob Moran) and anxious mother (Re-Animator’s Barbara Crampton, a living reminder of better horror
films past). There’s an English professor son (A.J. Bowen) and his
ex-student-turned-girlfriend (Step Up 3D’s
Sharni Vinson). There’s a daughter (Upstream
Color’s Amy Seimetz), her boyfriend (talented horror director Ti West), two
more sons (Joe Swanberg, Nicholas Tucci) and their respective girlfriends (Sarah
Myers and Wendy Glenn). Things are gently tense, like a bad family reunion you
wouldn’t want to go to, especially since they aren’t your family and you don’t
know anyone there or why they’re so prickly with each other.
By the time the arrows start flying and the blood starts
flowing, the movie lurches into action. Having unconvincingly set up the family
dynamics, we now watch as each and every character is terrified, threatened,
assaulted, and eventually killed in ways that are awfully generic as far as
horror kills go. The one marginally clever kill, right near the end, is gross
and unexpected. When one character asks where’s so-and-so, another responds by
flatly describing the implement of death. The response? “Oh? Okay.” There’s a
comical flatness to the proceedings, with little sense of escalation. One
character – Vinson’s – jumps into action so quickly, ordering people around,
strategizing the best way to fight back and stay alive, that the movie’s almost
over before we get a tossed off explanation for her eerily helpful survivalist
skills. Another character spends longer than you’d think wandering around with
an arrow stuck in his back. The way the characters react is largely laughable,
sometimes on purpose, but just as often to suit the convenience of the strained
plotting.
Directed by Adam Wingard and written by Simon Barrett, the
movie had its debut at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2011,
building up some good word of mouth on the festival circuit before being bought
and shelved by Lionsgate. The company has finally seen fit to release it now in
a dubiously complimentary late-August release date. In the meantime Wingard and
Barrett collaborated on short horror contributions to the punishing omnibus
films V/H/S and The ABCs of Death. The years of wait are a mixed blessing for You’re Next, building anticipation that
could easily leave an audience wondering what all the fuss was about. I found
myself wondering, what with these fresh voices and a cast culled from their
friends and colleagues from the festival circuit, why this was the best the
filmmakers could come up with. It’s a thin, rote horror movie that goes about
getting its attempts at scares in the same old way with the same old bloody
tired tools. By the time the movie drags itself through its lame twists and the
full extent of the attackers’ plot is known, I wasn’t surprised or entertained.
I was simply wondering why the characters went to all that trouble. Surely there was an easier way.
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