The Kindness of Strangers — Speak No Evil
Any regular reader of this blog knows my feelings on remakes. In short, I’m not a fan. In long, I’ll give them a go if there’s a compelling reason, typically a great actor leading the affair or a very creative director giving the audience their unique take on the material. There is an additional circumstance where I’ll willingly take in an installment of the lamest and cheapest form of cinematic entertainment, and that’s when I simply don’t know that it is one.
The most notorious case of that rarity in my viewing history was a 2007 film about Vikings and Indigenous Americans. I think it was called Pathfinder. Anyway, I saw it with my sister and brother-in-law when I visited home for a weekend. It sucked on every level (I recall an early moment where a sword is slowly drawn on a woman who gently pushes it aside, yet it required a jump cut edit that didn’t sync up at all), and when I learned afterward that it was a remake, I told them that I’d have never agreed to watch it, especially not for money, had I known ahead of time. We still found it more entertaining than Steven Spielberg’s War of the Worlds remake (which is saying a lot if it was indeed Pathfinder, as that disaster has a 9% rating on Rotten Tomatoes).
All this is to say that I went into Speak No Evil not knowing it was a remake (an Americanized version of a Danish film from two years ago), even though it was produced and heavily marketed by Blumhouse, the premiere purveyor of horrible horror remakes, reboots, and tired franchises in existence today. This is because nowhere in that ad blitz did they mention this fact. Instead, all of the emphasis was on star James McAvoy and the menacing presence he projects as a charismatic but malevolent homeowner toying with his houseguests. Despite my ethical misgivings, I have to admit the pitch accomplished its goal, as it ended up falling into two of my exceptions to the Remake Rule. McAvoy’s mammoth talent is almost always a guaranteed draw, and since I was completely unaware of the existence of the earlier work, I saw no reason to steer clear. This is why we need Truth in Advertising laws.
Still, for what it’s worth, this is a good movie. Having never seen the original, I can’t say that it’s better or worse, but having done some research after the fact, I think I can safely suggest that this is different enough for it not to feel crass. Every once in a while Blumhouse sifts out some gold from the muddied waters that the studio itself creates, and this might just be one of those times.
Much of the plot is given away in the trailer. An American couple (Scoot McNairy and Mackenzie Davis) with a young daughter (Alix West Lefler) meets an attractive English couple (McAvoy and Aisling Franciosi) and their semi-mute son (Dan Hough) while on vacation in Italy. After becoming fast friends, the Americans — who live in London — are invited to spend the weekend at the Brits’ isolated estate in the West Country. Once there, McAvoy’s character, Paddy, becomes increasingly aggressive, creepy, and eventually violent, especially towards the young Ant, who later reveals that the reason he can’t talk is because his tongue has been cut out. At that point, it’s a battle for survival as Ben and Louise try to escape with Agnes and avoid a deadly outcome.
All of this was public information for months before the movie came out, so it doesn’t count as a spoiler, but it does beg the question of where an audience is meant to find any thrills or chills. The trick for writer-director James Watkins (who also helmed the remake of The Woman in Black) is to create an atmosphere that can still be unsettling even with all these crucial plot points already out in the open, something he couldn’t even predict because he filmed this long before anyone conceived of a preview. He also had to figure out how to distinguish this project from its forebear, which was still very fresh in the minds of its fans when this was green-lit.
So what does he do? He smartly leans into the two biggest assets he has for this production. The first is the cast itself. McAvoy is a powerhouse, both as a dramatic and physical actor. He’s proven time and again that he can adapt to just about any insanity the role might ask of him. Just look at what he did with Split. Through Paddy, he becomes this massively dominating presence, always commanding attention in ways that can be both charming and off-putting, but always stopping short of giving away the game, and finding odd ways to be surprisingly silly and affable.
The rest of the ensemble follows his lead and goes for the gusto in just about every scene. Davis gives off “final girl” vibes, but also asserts her agency at every opportunity, refusing to let Louise be a one-note character. Franciosi, who was fantastic in Stopmotion earlier this year, plays Paddy’s wife Ciara as this disturbing blend of femme fatale minx and caring nurturer. McNairy’s Ben is a man truly beaten down by his circumstances, but still has enough intelligence and nuance to avoid being a mopey beta. The child actors also do an admirable job, particularly Hough, who has to convey every fear and insecurity — as well as the big, terrifying reveal — without saying a word. The kid has to shoulder a lot in this picture, and he never once buckles under that pressure.
The second is the script, which is light on substance at times and clumsily handles the major plot points, but excels in setting its trap. From what I gather, in the original film, the potential victims and perpetrators (Danish and Dutch), are able to do their dance due to a very European attitude of politeness and deference that gets in the way of sound logic and survival instinct, leading to the masterful checkmate of “Because you let me” when the killer is asked why he’s doing this. That line is repeated here, but it doesn’t have the same weight. It’s more of a reference than a revelation, a crammed-in, last-minute motivation that we really didn’t need.
That’s because for this screenplay, the strength is in how it gets Ben and Louise out of their respective comfort zones. For example, Louise is a vegetarian, established when the families first meet. However, when the family arrives for their stay, Paddy and Ciara present a lovely roast goose for dinner, and offer Louise the first bite, the whole time talking up how they raised and slaughtered their prized bird for such a special meal. It’s an expert bit of needling, as Paddy formed a rapport with Louise based on the idea of sustainability in food and environmental protection, but conveniently/intentionally ignored the crucial extension of that philosophy for Louise’s personal life, creating a very awkward situation for her. In doing so, he’s able to start testing the limits of what the family will tolerate, and Watkins is able to set this story apart from what came before and tailor it for an American audience.
From that point it’s a two-pronged attack of clever foreshadowing and weaponized gaslighting. There are numerous signs that things aren’t on the up and up, like Ant never changing clothes, Ciara showing bruises that hint at domestic violence, or Paddy jumping with Ant into a swimming hole despite Ant being completely unable to tread water. When Ciara tries to chastise young Agnes’ table manners, Louise eventually steps in, leading to an apology from Ciara and the suggestion from Paddy that Louise apologize as well, even though she’s done nothing wrong. Later in the scene when Paddy becomes abusive towards Ant, Ben and Louise try to stop it, only to have the tables turned on them by Paddy asking what right they have to question his “parenting” when they wouldn’t accept the same from Ciara, completely glossing over the fact that she was just being passive-aggressive while he’s being active-aggressive and literally assaulting a child. Even the second act decision that puts the family back in danger when it seems they’ve gotten away is handled in a way that’s true to this overarching theme. In a vacuum, the scene is completely stupid and illogical, but within the context of how Watkins has established these characters — from Agnes having a panic attack to Ben acquiescing rather than putting his foot down as a father — it makes perfect sense. It’s frustrating as hell, but it works in this one instance.
This ties in nicely with the hints at malicious intent sprinkled throughout. Ciara mentions at dinner that she and Paddy have been together for 17 years, leading Ben and Louise to joke under their breath about just how young Ciara must have been when they met. Paddy talks about the need for ecological balance, represented by thinning out local foxes, reinforced when he takes Ben out for a hunt. Ben can’t bring himself to shoot the defenseless creature, but Paddy assures him that it’s okay, revealing that for him, it’s not even about the kill, but the pursuit, getting his prey into his crosshairs. It’s a much better justification for his behavior than any heavy-handed commentary about performative liberalism brought up during the climax, and it makes his rendition of “Eternal Flame” that much more batshit gold.
American remakes of foreign films aren’t necessarily a bad thing. Hell, we famously had one win Best Picture and get Martin Scorsese the Oscar he deserved for his entire career. You just have to make sure that if you’re going to do it, it has to translate to the new audience beyond just converting the dialogue to English. You can’t simply repeat the same plot with new actors, like when Michael Haneke remade his own film, Funny Games. While James Watkins’ version of Speak No Evil occasionally fumbles the football (including using an American football as a prop in England), it does at least accomplish the goal of making a version of the story that feels more natural for an American viewer. Fantastic performances and a script that’s just smart enough to shift the sensibilities and responsibilities of the characters go a long way to make an experience that’s not exactly surprising, but it is on the whole satisfying. I got a free poster from my local AMC when I went to see this, and while I probably won’t be hanging it on my wall, I also won’t be ripping it up in disgust. For a Blumhouse production, that’s a win.
Grade: B+
Join the conversation in the comments below! What film should I review next? Have you seen the original Danish movie, and if so, which version do you prefer? Were you also disappointed that this wasn’t a long lost Gene Wilder/Richard Pryor sequel? Let me know! And remember, you can follow me on Twitter (fuck “X”) and subscribe to my YouTube channel for even more content, and check out the entire BTRP Media Network at btrpmedia.com!
Originally published at http://actuallypaid.com on September 17, 2024.
