Oddly, the new horror flick resembles Anne Lamott’s recent novel, “Imperfect Birds.” Do you know that novel? It’s about a girl with a drug addiction. If you’re really into drugs, your parents can send you to a kind of nature-filled boot camp, where you haul tree trunks around and learn self-discipline. Or something. “Imperfect Birds” is about a mother who needs to send her daughter to a place like that. And the daughter is snotty and imperiled. And the mother is in denial--and then sometimes she is fully conscious--and she is constantly wondering if she is doing the right thing.
In “The Strangers: Prey at Night,” Christina Hendricks needs to send her kid to boarding school. The kid--let’s call her Daughter--has done some bad stuff (maybe class-cutting, drug-ingesting). Daughter thinks that Mom’s insistence on boarding school is a kind of abandonment; “you’re sending me off because you don’t want to look at me anymore.” Hendricks can’t get through to Daughter; “we are making sacrifices for you, this is the right thing to do.” The script is bizarrely smart about intergenerational tensions. “We can’t afford this,” says Son. “This boarding school is the reason we no longer have cable.” And the parents exchange a look; Son has clearly penetrated a layer of lies and uncovered something he wasn’t meant to uncover.
Actually, I love the family drama here. Son can’t drum up much in the way of affection for Daughter; he resents that Daughter is sucking up so much attention. “You love this,” he sneers at her. “You love being in the spotlight.” (Look at any dysfunctional family: Is it not always the response of the “A-plus sibling” to resent the black sheep, the prodigal son? The scene-stealer? I have seen this in my own family; I actually see this in my workplace right now. Would you ever have guessed these kinds of questions would get screen time in “The Strangers II: Prey at Night”?)
As in any drama, theories are generally half-true; there’s generally more to the story than the storyteller lets on. People get tired; people forget their patience. There’s a big, thick stew of animosity, even though these characters seem to be decent people, and then they all head off to Gatlin Park--a collection of motor homes, a stop before they’re en route to the boarding school. Genius! An abandoned collection of “units”; everyone goes home after Labor Day. We’re in late September. A mist settles on the empty landscape. Is there anything more sinister than passing by an (apparently) empty trailer at night, and discovering that the front door is open? Everyday objects become enchanted. Neon lights by the pool seem hellish. You get frightened by a radio loudly playing, “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” (Who turned it on?) A note from Uncle Mel--“Take the keys! Enjoy! [smiley face]--gives you pause. Why does that smiley face seem so unnerving--as if it were drawn by a small child, or someone who has lost his mind?
Spoiler. Smartly, the writers kill off Christina Hendricks almost right away. It’s like the Janet Leigh moment in “Psycho.” She is almost certainly why you have come to see the movie and--BOOM!--she’s gone. You realize this is going to be a story about the children. Imperiled by their proximity to Knife-Wielding Lunatics, Son and Daughter quickly forget their old issues. They bond. Like Thelma and Louise, they experience shifts in their “power dynamic”; at first, Son is the collected level-headed one, but, in a great twist, Formerly Ne’er-Do-Well Daughter turns out to save the day. The black sheep turned out to be the strongest in the family. Who would have guessed? We’re not dealing with “The Third Man,” here, but I really enjoyed this movie.
P.S. Yesterday was the first time I found myself shouting at a big screen. In the company of others, I discovered words coming out of my mouth. The words were: “Kill her!!!!” And Daughter took my advice. Go ahead and see this movie!
In “The Strangers: Prey at Night,” Christina Hendricks needs to send her kid to boarding school. The kid--let’s call her Daughter--has done some bad stuff (maybe class-cutting, drug-ingesting). Daughter thinks that Mom’s insistence on boarding school is a kind of abandonment; “you’re sending me off because you don’t want to look at me anymore.” Hendricks can’t get through to Daughter; “we are making sacrifices for you, this is the right thing to do.” The script is bizarrely smart about intergenerational tensions. “We can’t afford this,” says Son. “This boarding school is the reason we no longer have cable.” And the parents exchange a look; Son has clearly penetrated a layer of lies and uncovered something he wasn’t meant to uncover.
Actually, I love the family drama here. Son can’t drum up much in the way of affection for Daughter; he resents that Daughter is sucking up so much attention. “You love this,” he sneers at her. “You love being in the spotlight.” (Look at any dysfunctional family: Is it not always the response of the “A-plus sibling” to resent the black sheep, the prodigal son? The scene-stealer? I have seen this in my own family; I actually see this in my workplace right now. Would you ever have guessed these kinds of questions would get screen time in “The Strangers II: Prey at Night”?)
As in any drama, theories are generally half-true; there’s generally more to the story than the storyteller lets on. People get tired; people forget their patience. There’s a big, thick stew of animosity, even though these characters seem to be decent people, and then they all head off to Gatlin Park--a collection of motor homes, a stop before they’re en route to the boarding school. Genius! An abandoned collection of “units”; everyone goes home after Labor Day. We’re in late September. A mist settles on the empty landscape. Is there anything more sinister than passing by an (apparently) empty trailer at night, and discovering that the front door is open? Everyday objects become enchanted. Neon lights by the pool seem hellish. You get frightened by a radio loudly playing, “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” (Who turned it on?) A note from Uncle Mel--“Take the keys! Enjoy! [smiley face]--gives you pause. Why does that smiley face seem so unnerving--as if it were drawn by a small child, or someone who has lost his mind?
Spoiler. Smartly, the writers kill off Christina Hendricks almost right away. It’s like the Janet Leigh moment in “Psycho.” She is almost certainly why you have come to see the movie and--BOOM!--she’s gone. You realize this is going to be a story about the children. Imperiled by their proximity to Knife-Wielding Lunatics, Son and Daughter quickly forget their old issues. They bond. Like Thelma and Louise, they experience shifts in their “power dynamic”; at first, Son is the collected level-headed one, but, in a great twist, Formerly Ne’er-Do-Well Daughter turns out to save the day. The black sheep turned out to be the strongest in the family. Who would have guessed? We’re not dealing with “The Third Man,” here, but I really enjoyed this movie.
P.S. Yesterday was the first time I found myself shouting at a big screen. In the company of others, I discovered words coming out of my mouth. The words were: “Kill her!!!!” And Daughter took my advice. Go ahead and see this movie!
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