Movie Review—Weapons

"Every other class had all their kids, but Mrs. Gandy's room was totally empty.  And do you know why?  Because the night before, at 2:17 in the morning, every kid woke up, got out of bed, walked downstairs, and into the dark . . . and they never came back."

—Narrator, Weapons

With an unusually modern setting for its ultimate storytelling turns, Weapons relies on its ambiguity and overlapping character-focused chapters, which retread the same basic timeline, to build up to a grimly comedic (my wife laughed quite a bit!) and quite visually brutal conclusion.  When almost an entire classroom's worth of children leave their houses one night, a town erupts into emotional chaos.  Red herrings abound, including events that could have had massive ramifications for the plot as a whole in another film.  Here, they contribute to the tangled web of sub-narratives that unravel enough to reveal the true reason for the disappearances, which in turn highlights that other matters hide in unspoken, unseen backstory.  For all that remains enshrouded in uncertainty, the movie does give away why its title is Weapons, and the splintered paths of each character intersect enough in an increasingly dark manner to bring necessary clarity about the bizarre occurrence.

Production Values

Frequently, Weapons utilizes a cinematography which emphasizes darkness, and when applicable, figures moving, whether slowly or erratically, in that darkness.  Daylight scenes are present, but where the movie shines most clearly is the scenes set at night or in scarcely illuminated buildings.  Since the basis of the story is a group of children from the same classroom leaving their homes at night, it is fitting that so many shots feature a lack of light.  Jumpscares occasionally leap into a scene, but, like the strongest horror offerings, the film stands mostly on atmosphere or gradual buildup to an intense final act.  Falling short of the well-crafted aesthetic and camera work, incredibly weak dialogue is particularly dominant in the first third of the runtime, weak in the sense that the speech is often awkward, and not in a particularly "realistic" way.  Many characters speak during these scenes in highly simplistic phrases that do not reflect developed dialogue even as they weave together to first obscure and eventually clarify the heart of the plot.  Some fairly major developments lead nowhere, while seemingly minor details become much more relevant with time.  For instance, as soon as I saw the painted word on Justine's car, I suspected that it telegraphed far more about the real nature of the events than it might appear to, with the immediate context focusing on how certain people in the town perceive Justine.

As for the flimsy dialogue, the performances themselves thankfully come to the rescue of the more lackluster conversations; Julia Garner and Josh Brolin receive the most screen time, each having at least a handful of scenes that effectively show the despair or distress of their character through their acting capabilities.  Cary Christopher carries the role of Alex, the only child from his class not to disappear, with gravity, showing caution and kindness depending on who he interacts with.  The way he is quick to offer assistance even to a very malicious person (in a scene I won't spoil in this paragraph) reinforced the character's innocence quite effectively.  In their more limited screen time, supporting cast members like Benedict Wong contribute well, but the standout role is that of the villain.  Only coming to the forefront much later in the film, Amy Madigan is incredible as antagonist Gladys: her bizarre demeanor and the juxtaposition between her elderly vulnerability and ruthless manipulation are expertly conveyed by Madigan.  Without divulging everything about the story and the place of Gladys in it, I will say that she injects an excellently realized combination of mystery, revelation, and malevolence while also setting up the most extended scene of humor in the entire movie.

 

Story

The abrupt, unexpected departure of multiple children from their homes one night stirs up strife and panic in a town.  With few leads, Justine, a teacher of the classroom that lost students in the incident, investigates by trying to speak with the lone child of the class to not disappear.  Strange dreams and visions begin pointing not only Justine, but also a man named Archer towards a sinister presence.

Intellectual Content

Brief allusions surface to a rather different phenomenon involving children and schools than the one in the film: children missing from school and a floating firearm in a dream certainly would hint that the subject of school shootings was at least somewhat on director Zach Cregger's mind when making Weapons.  This is never directly brought up or otherwise made anything but a tertiary concern at best, though the parallels could certainly be intentional to a degree.  The ultimate reason for people becoming "weaponized" to destroy each other in the story has nothing to do with assault rifles or any other guns; a character's deep willingness to use others for their own gain is to blame.  While this is also unstated and not directly affirmed as an intentional theme, perhaps the director also meant to address how what truly hurts children might not necessarily be what an individual or town (or nation) assumes it is.

I will refrain from giving away too many particulars, but Gladys, once she gains the upper hand over certain individuals, uses quite oppressive threats to coerce young Alex, first into cooperating with her, and eventually to completing tasks on her behalf.  Purposefully or not, Weapons hence showcases how the kindness of abuse victims can be exploited by those without such traits when he makes a seemingly sincere effort to help Gladys in a time of physical weakness.  It does not follow from this that ruthlessness is morally permissible or pragmatically mandatory, but prioritizing kindness absolutely leaves a person vulnerable to whatever the unkind might do to prey on the willingness of others to help.  Other than how a moral dilemma within Judeo-Christian ethics relates to an action taken by Alex near the very end of the movie, which I will not detail to avoid spoilers, this contrast of kindness and coldness is one of the most significant philosophical layers of the entire work.

Conclusion

Lacking some of the excellence within its reach, Weapons does use its chapter-based storytelling, emphasis on darkness, and slow burn mystery to great effect.  Even in its more humorous moments, which are not omnipresent, a generally persistent tonal brutality serves as one of its strongest assets.  Not every horror film with comedic elements needs to balance the two genres evenly or allow humor to remove the tension or severity from all dark scenes.  Weapons steps away from this blunder even as it relies on odd dialogue choices for at least a significant part of the film.  

Content:

 1.  Violence:  A man is shown (under a form of hypnosis) slamming his head into another person even after the other party has died, bloodying his face.  A crushed skull with the brain matter visible is shown shortly after.  In another scene, a limb is shown after having been pulled off of a person.  In these and other ways, the film is fairly graphic!

 2.  Profanity:  Words like "fuck" are used throughout.

 3.  Sexuality:  A very brief sex scene with no nudity is included.