Summer horror blowout (part 1): In a violent nature, the watchers, and A quiet place: Day One

In a Violent Nature is the sort of movie whose premise feels commendably ingenious… until you actually stop and consider it for more than thirty seconds. The film functions as a standard slasher knockoff in the Friday the 13th vein, only in this case the camera remains purposely cemented to the story’s lumbering, implacable Jason Voorhees-esque antagonist at all times… from the moment his reanimated corpse claws its way out of the earth, following him from behind as he tromps methodically through the woods and eventually acquires a pair of dragging hooks and a vintage firefighter’s mask from the nearby park ranger’s office. At first, the approach feels thrillingly subversive (the sugar rush of the horror genre, after all, is that elusive sense of stumbling onto something creatively fresh), but reality quickly sets in - if you strip a horror film of any and all trace of character or suspense, what exactly are you left with?​

It’s to the movie’s credit that the end result isn’t as stultifying as it might have been. Director Chris Nash stages the film almost like a nature documentary, devoid of any sort of musical score, the drawn-out single takes achieving a soothing, almost hypnotic quality… reminiscent of Gus Van Sant’s Elephant. But Nash doesn’t quite have a firm handle on the material. In a Violent Nature feels fundamentally at odds with itself, torn between its untextured yet high-minded sociological commentary and its deconstructionist approach to conventional slasher storytelling. It’s amusing that the film cultivates its own deliberately dopey lore in the narrative margins (the killer’s soul is tethered to a locket that’s swiped from his gravesite), largely conveyed through snatches of overheard dialogue… but its almost meditative regard for its central figure is undercut by the spectacularly graphic, borderline cartoonish manner with which he dispatches of the film’s forgettable cast. These kills (including one that’ll likely have gore junkies rhapsodizing for years) were clearly conceived to elicit a certain Pavlovian giddiness from seasoned horror fans. At any rate, the gimmick wears out its welcome long before the final frames (it’s hard to imagine a kill involving a log splitter feeling this tediously belabored - if I wasn’t ready to tap out then, I definitely was during the meandering climactic monologue… which feels a lot like a single-engine plane circling a dirt runway, unsure how to land). In a Violent Nature has a touch of ingenuity, and that’s to be applauded - but it doesn’t make the experience any less hollow.

Even by the indigestible standards of Hollywood nepotism, the meteoric rise of Ishana Night Shyamalan feels a bit, well… difficult to digest. Landing her first studio feature at the age of 23 (having honed her craft writing and directing on the Apple TV+ series Servant, which just so happened to be executive produced by her dad) undoubtedly feels like gravel in the eye for many an aspiring filmmaker. But this industry remains defiantly sink-or-swim and, unfortunately, Shyamalan’s debut The Watchers, which she adapted from the novel by A.M. Shine, mostly sinks. Initially, the way the story delves into Irish folklore feels promising. Dakota Fanning stars as Mina, a young woman driven to Ireland out of grief, who’s tasked with transporting a golden parrot she nicknames “Darwin” from Galway to Belfast. When her car breaks down less-than-fortuitously in the middle of the forest and night soon falls, she’s forced to take refuge in a single-room bunker… where the other inhabitants (including Olwen Fouéré and Barbarian’s Georgina Campbell) gravely instruct her to stand motionless before the mirrored window so the titular creatures can “observe” her. There are rules, you see - and breaking them would be inadvisable.​

Shyamalan clearly picked up a few tricks from her dad. She understands the value of a tantalizing plot hook, and demonstrates a solid enough grasp of mood and atmosphere. But like many of M. Night’s films, the setup is considerably stronger than the payoff. However, unlike, say, The Village - in which the fantastical was undercut by the mundane - The Watchers sees Shyamalan double down on the story’s supernatural implications… to the point of spiraling lunacy. Her still-budding screenwriting chops are increasingly exposed (we’re honestly supposed to buy that this group spends literal months inside the bunker and never once thinks to check underneath the rug?). Fanning is fine, but Fouéré is the real standout - with her piercing stare, slightly untamed, Targaryen-like silver hair, and aura of ethereal sagacity, she’s like something straight out of Celtic myth (actors from Ireland and the UK remain the most reliable defense against dubious dialogue and ham-fisted exposition). Her performance isn’t enough to salvage the movie - particularly during the rank nonsense of its third act - but Shyamalan has good casting instincts. Next time - and presumably there will be a next time - she should make sure there’s a script of corresponding quality.

At first glance, A Quiet Place: Day One has the acrid whiff of a cynical cash-in - an unnecessary prequel designed to milk some extra profit from John Krasinski’s popular sci-fi horror franchise before the third chapter eventually arrives. However, if that was the plan, the studio might have been better off hiring someone other than Pig’s Michael Sarnoski. This is one of those thrilling exceptions in which an indie auteur accepts a big Hollywood payday but effectively bends the project to his own artistic sensibilities, rather than submitting to the vulture-like whims of a production mandate that leave his creative bones picked clean.​

The story takes place in New York, which is established from the outset as a sonic battleground (the film claims the city’s average decibel level is 90, the equivalent of a continuous human scream). Sam (Lupita Nyong’o) is a former poet, terminally ill with cancer and fairly embittered about the whole situation. Lured from her hospice facility to the city by the promise of pizza, she’s instead greeted by a shower of meteors that unleash vicious extraterrestrial creatures attracted to sound. It’s striking how indifferent Sarnoski appears to be to the trappings of conventional monster movies. He dutifully stages the requisite, nerve-fraying set pieces - which are given fresh dimensions by the urban landscape (the sight of the creatures cascading en masse down the sides of a glass skyscraper is terrifying) - but he’s clearly more invested in Sam and her support cat Frodo, who eventually cross paths with an English law student named Eric (played by Joseph Quinn of Stranger Things). What unfolds is a disarmingly sorrowful-yet-sweet meditation on mortality and making the most of what time you have left, the apocalyptic backdrop at times seeming almost incidental. Once again, it feels deeply exasperating that Nyong’o isn’t one of the biggest stars on the planet - like Sarnoski, she’s punching in a different weight class than a genre exercise of this nature typically requires. A Quiet Place: Day One still doesn’t feel altogether necessary, at least from a franchise perspective - it’s not like the story (concocted by Sarnoski and Krasinski) expands the nominal lore in any meaningful way. And those looking for summer escapism may not readily spark to the film’s existential approach. But this is purposeful horror moviemaking that embraces creative risk. Unlike In a Violent Nature and The Watchers, you can’t say its director doesn’t know exactly what he’s trying to accomplish.