Jack Simon/Courtesy photo
I go through bouts of terrible nightmares. It’s something I have dealt with for several years now. Anyone who has smoked pot too much for too long can tell you how vivid the dreams get when you quit, and mine were nasty and never really went away. Maybe they will someday, but in the meantime, I’ve found ways to cope.
Waking up and going to see a horror movie has done wonders for clearing my head. Something about the separation from personal anxieties to the fantasticalness of a flick. It’s like when you’re sad, you go to watch sad movies; it’s nice not to feel alone with your emotions.
It’s with this I went to see “Speak No Evil.” When it comes to these pallet-cleanse spookfests, it doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad, but it’s still nice when they pull through with some quality. “Speak No Evil” was fantastic.
James McAvoy’s performance as intense, manipulative, faux dad Paddy carries the movie. Not only the load of quality or entertainment, but the heaviest theme is the oil for making the film’s engine work. It is rare to pin that all on one actor, for a director to have enough trust in them that they don’t steer them away when coaching through the performance or overthink it and rip the organs out in the editing room; but credit to James Watkins — he let it all play. Having the wherewithal to step away and let somebody else be the auteur for your movie must require a tremendous amount of self-discipline, but it is hard to deny McAvoy. So authentic in his character that it feels like he was only going with what popped into his head, as if they sent this sociopath into the middle of the camera with a bunch of actors and waited to see what would happen. Everybody else is reciting lines, and he’s living it, talking back like it is all real.
Flipping the switch between his facade and his true nature, Watkins purposely feeds that. Changing angles and shots with McAvoy’s facial shift creates a visceral rippling effect from moment to moment within the grander scope of the film.
It is interesting to juxtapose it against Mackenzie Davis’ performance as the heroine’s mother Louise. Not only because they are antagonist and protagonist, respectively, but as a way to display artistic skill levels. Davis did an enormously impressive job as Louise, her character has a plethora of tics that display her concern at the unfolding situation and her correct underlying belief that her husband Ben (Scoot McNairy) is unable to handle it. Making the character choose to look away from the camera and the conversation going on inside it, you can see the worried flashes in her eyes as the issues between her family and Paddy’s build upon one another. It is a smart way to show she is trying to get away in her head, trying to disassociate from her present as she knows something isn’t quite right here, but she is willing to put with it to pay a pittance to her pitiful husband.
But it is this pittance that ultimately sinks the performance, leaving it a smidge short of that elite level that McAvoy is hitting. Her and Ben’s relationship feels underserved throughout. They have opportunities to make it work, giving ample screen time and strong writing to make us care about their fate, but ultimately, they bounce off one rather than mingling in a co-existent space that builds the scene. To be succinct, they are never able to generate chemistry — something that McNairy needs to carry guilt for, as well. The two of them are culpable in keeping the film just short of greatness.
Cringe is a crucial part of horror, it is a tension-building tool in the genre’s box. When the dam finally breaks in the third act and the thriller manifests itself into full-blown frightening, I can feel it in my chest. Finally, the tightness is being alleviated even as evil unfolds. It is a relief, no matter what, at least we’ll know, swept away with the evil being shepherded along with the adjustment in McAvoy’s performance as well as a subtle tonal shift in the score.
It is refreshing to see a horror movie in 2024 not rely on gore or played out psychological supernatural spookiness, and while not breaking any new ground, “Speak No Evil” is a valuable addition to the genre’s rich history.
Critic Score: 8.3/10
Jack Simon is a mogul coach and writer/director who enjoys eating food he can’t afford, traveling to places out of his budget, and creating art about skiing, eating, and traveling while broke. Check out his website jacksimonmakes.com to see his Jack’s Jitney travelogue series. You can email him at [email protected] for inquiries of any type.
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