Barbarian

Fuck it, five stars. It's probably the best contemporary horror film because it's just so. damn. fun. It is insatiably delicious to watch, and my eyes are peeling away every frame as the plot unravels in its melodically discordant way. Everything about it works. Everything. The first act is one of the best examples of misdirections ever - and it's becuase every single one is a Schrodinger's misdirect - they live both in a film where Bill Skarsgard is a psycho killer who has orchestrated this whole thing - and also in a world in which he's just an awkward, clumsy, sort-of-misogyntistic dweeb who's trying his hardest to be sweet to Tess but can't let go of his socialised judgements of women. But when we slam to Justin Long in his convertible, the film elevates massively. When I first saw this, it was love at first sight in this moment, and the way the film slowly finds its way back to the original plot is so glorious. But what's better is, because the first two acts essentially play the same 'story' again (person finds underground tunnel, comes across evil Mumma) - Creggar is smart in approaching Justin Long's rendition totally differently: with humour. We know the dangers that lurk below, so the humour is even more pertinent, and this is exactly how you do horror comedy. Many horror comedy filmmakers think horror comedy is having blood and one-liners, or goofy scenarios - but no, it's using dramatic irony to bury the horror inside the comedy, and the comedy inside the horror, both entwined and unable to exist without eachother. I keep insisting this film is fun, but its commentary on the optimism of Reagan's America and its eventual dissolution - of the deconstruction of the nuclear family and the American Dream - is so perfectly presented through the narrative structure. Once again, the theme is fascinating and its told with the right level of finesse. Everything is falling apart and your future is not guaranteed, even if your green lawn and pastel supermarket says it is. Tomorrow, you could be homeless - count on it. The cinematography is kinetic and delectable, constantly dollying in and out as characters face multiple moments of realisation and eureka. The camera is constantly sliding around, its movement suggesting entry, discovery and danger - and it all flows so smoothly. Damn everything about this film is just so fucking good. Shame Creggar took the wrong lessons for the dogshit Weapons, but hopefully that film's woefully misaligned reception doesn't steer him off-course, because Barbarian shows a level of auteristic promise that I've not seen from a newcomer for a long fucking time. He has me in the palm of his hand, and I'll watch every film he releases forever, hoping to see the same spark of fervent curiosity that propelled Barbarian into the film it became.