Runtime: 1 hour, 30 minutes
Rating: PG-13
Directed: John Krasinski
Quick Impressions:
If they hear you, they hunt you. Obviously the best place to encounter these horrific monsters is in space. No one can hear you scream.
Movie poster tagline jokes aside, John Krasinski’s A Quiet Place needs to be studied alongside the Alien franchise. It clearly belongs to a (rather teeming) subgenre of films exploring the horror of motherhood. If you liked Noomi Rapace in Prometheus, you’ll love Emily Blunt in A Quiet Place.
While I watched this movie, I initially had kind of a negative reaction. That’s because I’m dealing with some perplexing inner ear problem and trying to cope with this horrible new ringing in my ear. If you’re looking for distraction to ease tinnitus, A Quiet Place is definitely the wrong movie for you. What an apt title! For personal reasons, I really came to appreciate Marco Beltrami’s score. (Of course, even when not covering a bothersome ringing in my ear, Marco Beltrami’s scores usually appeal to me. I really loved his score for 3:10 to Yuma.)
What I’m getting at here is that A Quiet Place is an unusual film because for long stretches, it really is nearly silent. And silence is so rare in a movie theater. Without dialogue or background music, you can hear every crunch of your neighbor’s popcorn, every errant cough, every adjustment of a chair—sounds that are normally masked in a movie theater. Setting aside the peril of the characters on the screen, the lack of sound itself is a bit unsettling and preps the audience to be wary of the horrors to come.
A few weeks ago, the cleaning crew forgot to turn off the overhead lights in the auditorium where we waited. So through all the endlessly looping commercials, we sat there in the light watching other patrons slowly filter in and look around in bewilderment. Finally when the actual previews began, someone informed the theater staff of the problem, and the lights went out. But I remember marveling that such a familiar environment could quickly become foreign with just one small change. A completely lit movie theater auditorium is weird. And so is a completely quiet one.
The use of sound in the early parts of the movie made me think fondly of one reason the first two Metroid games appealed to me so much. You have a bounty hunter walking around on foreign terrain, and every time her boots hit the ground, you hear an appropriate scuffling. (Also, they’re just awesome games, especially Super Metroid. Why can’t anyone make games like that anymore?) In A Quiet Place, the characters walk barefoot on a path of gravel (and sawdust maybe?) that they’ve created to mask the sound of their steps. They’re hyper-aware of every single sound they make, and, as a result, so are we.
This has certain practical advantages (for the filmmakers, I mean, not the characters. The advantage to the characters is obvious). It definitely helps to build suspense and makes jump scares easier to pull off. In most horror movies, jump scares work only in the beginning, and then the audience becomes desensitized and wary. But when it’s so eerily quiet all the time, it’s really easy for the movie to (metaphorically) yell, “BOOOOOOO!” and make us jump every single time.
The Good:
I love Emily Blunt, and I always enjoy seeing real life couples work together, so that aspect of the film hooked me from the start. The concept is cool, too, of course. (And, you know, there is also a growing subset of films starring Emily Blunt on a remote, creepy, ramshackle farm. It’s like she must have a clause she works into her contracts that an eerie, dilapidated farm must be involved in some way.)
John Krasinski directed this movie and co-wrote it with Bryan Woods and Scott Beck. It’s apparently not the first film he’s directed, but I guess I’ve never paid attention to that aspect of his career. He does give a very captivating performance here. It helps that when he conveys information to his children, he must look right into their eyes to make sure they understand him because this means that he’s always staring right at us telling us everything we need to know. It’s almost hypnotic.
Actually, one amazing thing about this film is the way it delivers exposition. The rules we learn from (captioned) sign language. The reason for these rules we must research for ourselves by reading the set dressing. Luddites are probably so delighted by this fantasy world where print is not dead (unlike most of the people) and Morse code is thriving. (I mean, they’re delighted unless they truly are Luddites and don’t believe in the printing press or any technology, in which case, what are they doing in a movie theater, and shouldn’t they be in early nineteenth century England right now?)
That’s a really fun way to receive exposition. This would be a fun film to show in an ESL class. It definitely shows the usefulness of learning sign language (which is kind of obvious without a movie to explain it, but still).
One cool bit of trivia that I didn’t learn until writing this review is that young actress Millicent Simmonds (who plays the Abbott’s deaf daughter Regan) actually is deaf and has been since infancy.
Including a deaf character is a very interesting choice for the story, and Regan is probably the most fully realized and captivating character in the movie. She feels like the one with a future. If this were a biopic of a famous person’s childhood, the subject would be Regan for sure. Thought of that way, A Quiet Place could be Regan’s super hero origin story. Granted, she doesn’t have supernatural powers. Yet. (The film never suggests that she’ll develop them. I’m just saying, throw in some powers, and you’d have yourself a comic book super hero.)
I also really enjoyed the acting of Noah Jupe who plays Regan’s brother Marcus. He has maybe the most expressive face in the film and promising talent.
The fact that the film maintains its almost unbearable level of suspense using such a small cast is almost amazing.
Besides providing scares, A Quiet Place also explores some provocative material. How does the family process what happens in the beginning without the luxury of making any sound? The film also plays with inversion. Under ordinary circumstances, a man might fish to escape the noise of a bustling household. In this case, by fishing, the father is able to escape the silence of the home. And that’s the way in which the deaf daughter becomes such a crucial character, by a similar mechanism of inversion. What would ordinarily be a weakness becomes, under these odd circumstances, a strength. This is very much a story of the triumph of the human spirit as characters deliberately turn their vulnerabilities into their advantages.
Best Scene:
Emily Blunt’s Evelyn Abbott often recedes into the background in this film since her husband is the one who so frequently and forcefully gives instructions to the children and lays out the rules of the environment for the audience.
But three of the best moments in the film belong to Evelyn. One, obviously, is the extended sequence that ends in bathroom. I actually think that’s the best part of the entire movie, but I won’t ruin it by describing it. Another is the bit as the daughter of Pharaoh. (I’m trying not to give spoilers.) Then, too, I really liked the moment when she mediates on how her hands were free.
Best Action Sequence:
I love the sequence in the grain silo. It’s quite compelling because you can see why the characters would be so motivated here, one of them, in particular. It’s also a particularly damning indictment of Rose in Titanic. I kept wanting to yell at Kate Winslet, “Look at what these kids are accomplishing with a little bit of effort! Admit it! You weren’t even trying to save Jack!”
Best Scene Visually:
The opening sequence of the movie ends in such a shocking, harrowing way. I was not expecting something like that so early in the film. It’s gutting. Maybe it’s odd to call this the best scene visually, but there’s no sound, and the final sight is absolutely horrific.
Best Performance by a Non-Human:
That nail on the stairs should get star billing. It deserves an Academy Award. It was my favorite character. (Actually, I’m not kidding about that.)
The Negatives:
Has no one considered grenades or rat poison? How about Ebola or nuclear radiation? I realize that if we step back from the reality of the story and consider the project from the point of view of the writers, they can’t use viral contagion as a solution because Spielberg’s take on War of the Worlds already went that route. But I mean…These things attack everything that makes a noise. If it’s biological material, they eat it. If not, they get right up next to it and touch it a lot. It’s surprising to me that poison (or corruption of some sort) hasn’t been tried. Or maybe some method like one of the Joker’s tricks in The Dark Knight. I mean, they eat any biological organism that makes noise. It’s been over a year, and there are only a handful! Come on, people! Quit hiding on your farms!
Of course, I suppose it took a while to figure out what is already known about them (especially without getting eaten or talking aloud to share findings). Maybe I’m just being naïve because I watched the original version of Red Dawn recently, so I’ve been brainwashed to believe that properly motivated patriotic guerrillas can take out just about anyone. Or maybe I just don’t want to believe that this could happen to me. (But also, I mean, if they’re only in certain areas…well, I don’t know. Never put me in charge of anything. I’ll destroy the world in five minutes.)
But I did think that the premise of the story required us to shrug and say, “Okay, if you say so,” a lot instead of thinking for ourselves. It relies heavily on our willing suspension of disbelief, and sometimes, I’m not so sure I’m willing. I mean, how did this situation occur? How did the crisis reach this point? I also have big questions about some of the characters decisions within the story. True, people can make bad decisions. Sometimes their emotions (or just panic) can lead them to do kind of stupid things. Human irrationality explains itself, but it’s still frustrating.
Also, the movie’s theatrical trailer reveals too much of the silent scenes at the beginning. I know something has to be in the trailer, and yes, at least the trailer doesn’t give away key moments and ruin surprises. But to me, after that first harrowing scene before the title, the movie drags a little bit as we learn the daily routine of the family’s life. I kept thinking, Yes, yes, yes, I’ve already seen this part. Please get on with it. Let’s have some noisy interactions, please!
I will admit, however, that part of the problem lies with me, not the movie. The ringing in my ear is driving me crazy, and I was desperate for something to break the silence and help me forget about it and how it’s ruining my life forever.
After rereading that last paragraph, I will revise my statement and say that the problem lies entirely with me. Surely viewers seeing this film to escape the torment of tinnitus is not a demographic significant enough to merit study or accommodation. So I don’t think my complaints about the movie being quiet for too long is a very constructive note. But I do wish I had not already seen so much of those quiet moments in the trailer.
I also thought the plan with the oxygen mask and the box seemed likely to spawn a sequel where the horror came from a very different source. (It had a little too much Fredrick II about it if you ask me. If the plan had succeeded…My husband pointed out that sometimes there is just no good choice, and what are you supposed to do? I say, “Not that!”)
I got annoyed with Evelyn Abbott, too, at a point. One of her requests just seemed too much like something that happened in The Force Awakens. I want to mock her by saying, “Okay, I’m really tired, so could you please go die now?” But I mean, on the other hand, what was her husband thinking before she told him that? He seemed to be in some serious denial of reality.
Sometimes I felt that circumstances were stacking up against the Abbotts a bit too improbably. (Like, really, nobody noticed that one thing? And why in the world did they choose to do that?) As the film went on, these moments kept increasing in frequency (haha that reads like an unintended inside joke).
And the ending didn’t really leave me with a feeling of hope. It just didn’t seem like these characters have a very bright future in front of them. I think once the adrenaline wears off, they’re all just going to want to put on an oxygen mask and crawl into a box and stay there until they’re given extensive therapy. But my husband found the ending hopeful.
Overall:
If the events in The Quiet Place ever happen here, my entire family will be dead in ten minutes. We’re one of those families that can play the quiet game together and bafflingly not have a winner.
But I think John Krasinski and Emily Blunt do have a winner on their hands here. This film is excellent at building suspense and maintaining it for a freakishly long time. It’s eerily quiet, but it still manages to keep us engaged (on the edge of our seats in fact). And that nail! Seriously, that nail! Every time I go up and down the stairs now, I worry that I’m going to step on it. (I guess you could say, it’s embedded in my mind.)
Probably the biggest jump scare of all comes when Michael Bay’s name pops up as a producer in the end credits. It’s a twist worthy of a young M. Night Shyamalan. Never in a million years would I have guessed Bay had anything to do with this production. It’s so different tonally from the stuff he usually makes. (And that’s not meant to insult him or the film. It’s just such an incongruous pairing.)
If you like suspense or horror or silence or Emily Blunt and you hate stepping on nails, A Quiet Place is the movie you need to see this spring. You should see it for the nail alone. That nail is going to be a huge star one day. It’s probably going to be in a museum.