Weapons 

(Spoilers ahead)

In the suburban Pennsylvania town of Maybrook lives a group of troubled people who make really bad choices and wind up paying the consequences. They are not good neighbors and would seem to have no common cause to unite them, other than the regular school activities of their precious darlings. And therein lies the premise of Weapons, Zach Cregger's second feature following on the heels of his 2022 horror debut, Barbarian (which we'll talk about in another post because I've yet to see it). 

At the witching hour of 2:17 a.m., a class of 17 third graders arise from their beds and flee their homes, running through the misty streets, heeding the call of some mysterious force pulling them towards a destination unknown. The plot of Weapons unfolds via a Rashomon-like script, featuring chapters depicting the same events as experienced by different characters. 

Chapter One, titled "Justine", introduces us to the third grade teacher whose entire class, save for one, has suddenly vanished. Justine very quickly becomes the target of rage from parents who somehow convince  themselves--and each other--that she has done something in the classroom to bring about this baffling tragedy. Threatening phone calls and acts of vandalism unsettle Justine but, unfortunately, not enough to prompt her to leave town. Instead, she boozes it up at the local dive bar and beds down with her married ex-boyfriend. During her non-waking hours, Justine experiences horrifying nightmares that send her screaming into consciousness. Alas, for Justine, things are about to get a whole lot worse. 

"Archer", the second chapter, focuses on Archer Graff, one of the grieving, angry fathers who can't quite come to terms with the loss of his son, Matthew. Archer is certain that Justine is at the center of this inexplicable tragedy. The longer his son remains missing, the less attention Archer pays to his job as a developer. He sleeps in his missing child's bed, harangues the local cops for answers, does a bit of his own sleuthing and develops conspiracy theories that may or may not actually lead somewhere. There's a woman living in Archer's house but it's never made clear what their relationship is, or if the lost boy even belongs to her (we only see her in a brief scene lasting a couple of seconds). What is clear is that she is going to work and has no time--or patience--for Archer's grief, or his disturbing night terrors. So an embittered Archer acts alone, at least until his path crosses that of Justine at the precise moment her story left off. 

The third chapter, "Paul", sees a frustrated young police officer peripherally investigating the children's mass exodus while battling his own demons: an unhappy marriage, a barely constrained violent streak, an ex-girlfriend leading him astray from a path of sobriety (and fidelity), and a thankless career overseen by his unimpressed father-in-law, the local chief of police. His troubles are amplified following a fateful encounter with a homeless crack addict he catches trying to break into a downtown business. There's a lengthy pursuit prompting Paul's repressed fury to surface in a savage confrontation. Paul is a little slow on the uptake because it takes some time before he realizes that his actions toward the other man have been captured on the patrol car's dashcam. Later, further incurring Paul's wrath, the same man leads him on a second chase, and that's when things go disastrously wrong for both of them. 

The druggie, "James" (title of the fourth chapter) is a hopeless mess who lives in a tent in a heavily wooded area of Maybrook. James is the least developed "chapter" character in the movie. We learn very little about him other than the fact that he is a liar, thief and accomplished sprinter. An initial run-in with Paul frightens James but he continues doing whatever he has to do to get more drugs. Oh, and he's also a little unsettled by the spooky clown he spies in the wood near his tent. Desperate for a high, James breaks into a residence that turns out to harbor deep secrets that could be worth significant cash, even if it means risking his life--and that of his relentless pursuer.  

School principal, "Marcus", star of the fifth chapter, finds his relatively peaceful life with his husband upended when he is suddenly confronted with this unsolvable conundrum. After he chairs a volatile meeting with an auditorium-full of half-crazed families, Marcus realizes that Justine must go, at least temporarily, until the situation can be satisfactorily sorted out. With the police having little success interviewing either Justine, or the lone student left in her classroom, Marcus decides to reach out to the boy's parents--a decision that yields unexpected results after a bizarre encounter with a stranger quickly balloons into something else.   

Which brings us to the final chapter, "Alex", named for the third grader who seems to have escaped whatever sinister fate befell his classmates. Alex is an only child, adored and doted on by his overprotective parents (especially his father). At school, Alex, like many introverted youngsters, is bullied and tormented, particularly by a kid in his class named Matthew. One day Alex returns home from school to find that an elderly relative has come for an extended visit. Aunt Gladys is a true, fitfully amusing eccentric who soon takes charge of the household. Worrying about his well-being, Justine attempts to speak to the child as he is walking home from school one day. He glares at her fearfully and then makes a run for it, telling Justine to stay away. Of course, this is catnip for Justine and she (and a bottle of vodka) goes on a stakeout in her car across the street. 

So, the alternating threads of theses chapters eventually come together to wrap up a terrifying and thoroughly spellbinding tale of ordinary people caught up in extraordinary circumstances, attempting to confront a mysterious and ancient evil that may be one of their own.  

Weapons may abound with metaphors--that's been the suggestion and there's certainly room for interpretation--but I think its best not to ascribe too much weight to the idea that every scene means something in this film, other than exactly what you see onscreen. 

Across the board, the performances are excellent. Julia Garner shines as Justine Gandy, the third grade teacher with several big problems on her hands. Josh Brolin is equally good as the anguished, determined Archer, whose set jaw and clenched fists perfectly capture the fear and outrage of this unraveling father. It's hard to believe he's the same young man I first saw as the teenage heartthrob in The Goonies way back in 1985. Alden Ehrenreich, as Paul, brings a superb physicality to his role, while making the character believably human and sympathetic, even as he becomes increasingly unhinged. Child actor Cary Christopher, as Alex, does a fine job, especially for a 9-year-old: his shellshocked face says it all, even when he hasn't any dialogue (which is most of the time).  Austin Abrams (James) perfectly inhabits his role as a skeezy lowlife whose greed (for drugs, and money to buy drugs) gets him into hot water, and Benedict Wong (Marcus) is terrific as the benevolent school principal who sees his attempts to control a spiraling situation quickly slipping away.  And then there is an unrecognizable Amy Madigan as Aunt Gladys. Kooky, bewigged and dolled up in layers of lipstick and sass, Aunt Gladys brings some comic relief to the ghastly proceedings. At least for a few minutes. Madigan dominates her scenes, bringing a relentless resolve and unexpected wackiness to a character who could have easily devolved into caricature or stereotype. Sara Paxton (Candy in Twin Peaks: The Return), the prolific Justin Long (from Cregger's Barbarian), and June Diane Raphael (Brianna in Netflix's Grace and Frankie) are cast in minor roles that further propel the action in the film. 

Written and directed by Cregger, the script has a bit of Stephen King meets The Brother's Grimm vibe: it's smart, scary, gory and unpredictable, filled with flawed, (mostly) fleshed-out characters whose attempts to do the right thing often backfires. In some cases, fatally. The score, arranged by Ryan and Hays Holladay (along with Zach Cregger, again!) very successfully captures the unfolding menace without becoming overbearing, and Larkin Seiple's cinematography is appropriately moody for this hair-raising tale. Which brings me to this one thing: why, oh why, don't people in these movies ever turn on a light when they enter a dark room. They simply never do, even when you know--and they know-- that there's probably something sinister lurking in the shadows. But then again, most of the decisions made in this movie aren't the ones I would make, although, as someone who has made plenty of bad decisions in his life, I can't really say for sure. 

Many, if not most, of the people in my age group probably won't see this movie (although they're plenty willing to line up for every superhero movie that comes down the pike). That's a shame because Weapons has an ability to cross generational lines without being too firmly entrenched in any single one. Still, the movie is a critical and commercial hit and I've already added Barbarian to my Netflix watch list. In recent years there have been a seemingly endless number of horror films that I've seen and hated, or else skipped altogether because their plot descriptions sounded so bad, despite the many glowing reviews from critics and audiences alike. Weapons is a cut above most of the stuff playing in cinemas this month, and is probably one of the best movies I've seen this year. Of course, now that I think about it, Weapons may be the only movie I've seen this year, at least on the big screen. Oh well, I'll see it again and I think you should too if you're game for a mystery/horror thriller that defies expectations.