Zach Cregger’s horror film Barbarian has been largely well-reviewed and comes with the promise of 18 certificate/R-rated gnarly scares and gore. For the most part, it delivers, though I must confess at a certain point, it ceased to be scary for me, once I realised “Oh, it’s that kind of horror film.” But for a good portion of the running time, especially the first act, the suspense and dread are first-rate. Others may find it scary throughout, since what frightens varies from person to person. But regardless of scariness, the film is well-written, acted, and directed, delivering a solid slice of genre goods.
The plot involves Tess (Georgina Campbell), a young woman who arrives in darkness at an Airbnb situated in a derelict Detroit suburb. She is here for a job interview, due to take place in the city the following day. However, upon arrival, she discovers the property has been double booked, and that a mysterious young man, Keith (Bill Skarsgård), is already in residence. They call the agency to straighten things out but end up with answerphone messages. Because it is dark, pouring with rain, and there’s a convention in town (or so Keith claims), getting a hotel elsewhere will be difficult. For this reason, Tess agrees to take the bedroom whilst Keith (chivalrously?) takes the sofa. The audience already knows this is a bad idea, because, unlike Tess, they know the genre of the story she inhabits.
Part of the fun of a film like Barbarian is inwardly urging the imperilled heroine not to go down into that basement, secret passage, staircase, labyrinth of dark tunnels, and so forth, knowing damn well that she will. We get plenty of that throughout the film, but with a few clever twists and turns, where expectations and conventions are turned on their heads. After an escalation of events in act one that I won’t spoil, a second plot thread is introduced, involving a scandal-ridden Hollywood TV actor (Justin Long), then a third, which flashes back to the Ronald Reagan era. These narrative jumps are deliberately jarring, but they pinball with deft aplomb into unexpected convergences, with flashes of absurdist dark humour to punctuate the horror. There’s even a touch of satire and social comment, on everything from modern romance to post-#metoo Hollywood and urban decay.
Georgina Campbell is particularly good in the lead, managing the tricky task of making Tess’s bad decisions appear logical, compassionate, cautious, and courageous. At one point, she simply says “nope”, delaying the pursuit of a particularly sinister discovery until she finds a way to do so that, whilst still highly inadvisable, isn’t completely insane. These onscreen acknowledgements of the dangers inherent in her situation go a long way to providing suspension of disbelief, and it is primarily Campbell who sells this. She’s a name to watch.
Other praiseworthy elements of the film include the music score (Anna Drubich) and the cinematography (Zach Kuperstein). The lens choices of the latter add a great deal to the nightmarish atmosphere, but also serve to make the film feel focused and claustrophobic when it threatens to sprawl. A sinister tone is maintained in scenes where the audience may have relaxed a little more, had different visual choices been made.
In short, Cregger deserves a lot of credit for maintaining the tension throughout, and his cast and crew make great contributions selling this Russian doll of a horror story. Highly recommended to the horror crowd, and cautiously recommended to other audiences, if they can summon the nerve.
UK Certificate: 18
US Certificate: R
Content Warnings: Strong bloody violence, gore, horror, swearing.
Simon Dillon Books 