WEAPONS horror movie review

Sleek, stylish, and appears razor-honed, but needs a little sharpening. Zach Cregger’s Weapons takes audiences on a visually arresting and emotionally charged journey that blends suspense, terror, and moments of surrealism. While the film excels in crafting atmosphere through its immersive sound design, haunting imagery, and striking cinematography, its story ultimately collapses under the weight of overwriting and structural ambition. Despite moments of genuine tension and intrigue, the story struggles to cohere into something emotionally resonant or thematically satisfying. In the end, Weapons proves to be more refined in aesthetic than in substance—an experience-driven work that favors tone over storytelling.

When all but one child from the same classroom mysteriously vanish on the same night at exactly the same time, a community is left questioning who or what is behind their disappearance.

Weapons positions itself as a psychological horror anthology-adjacent film that aspires to echo the structural ambition of Trick ‘r Treat and the dread-soaked atmosphere of Hereditary. Each composition is meticulously crafted, echoing the influences of Ari Aster, David Lynch, and Paul Thomas Anderson. The film’s immersive sound design, scored with unnerving precision, deepens the psychological tension, ensuring that audiences feel trapped within the same spiraling unease as its characters. Cregger, best known for the unexpected 2022 breakout Barbarian, attempts something far more sprawling here: a multi-threaded, nonlinear horror tapestry that spans time, location, and character perspectives. On paper, the structure is bold and ambitious. But unlike Barbarian, which grounded its twists in a tightly wound narrative, Weapons ultimately feels thematically scattered and emotionally distant. Characters arrive with weight, but rarely evolve; connections are drawn, but their meaning feels underdeveloped.

What Weapons does exceptionally well is craft an experience. Cregger’s talent for generating sustained suspense, is elevated here to a more mature and stylized level. The tonal consistency, even across multiple timelines and narrative threads, is admirable. Individual sequences build atmosphere masterfully, utilizing silence and suggestion as effectively as sudden, jarring visuals. The sound design alone is enough to make your skin crawl—unsettling, precise, and deeply immersive. The cinematography delivers an unnerving blend of realism and the uncanny, grounding even the most supernatural or surreal moments in believable textures and light.

Weapons boasts an outstanding performative dimension. Each of the lead and key supporting actors deliver performances that are uniformly committed, standing out for their subtle, tortured portrayals of people unraveling in the wake of the trauma of the kids vanishing. After the mostly disappointing Wolf Man earlier this year, I was curious to see if this film would be the vehicle needed for Julia Garner (until the Madonna bio pic that’s calling her name) to showcase her acting chops. The performative quality we witnessed of her in Ozark is what we have in Weapons. Josh Brolin offers stoic gravitas, while Austin Abrams adds a jittery, unpredictable energy. And then there’s Cary Christopher’s unsettling Alex, complete with enough creepy kid energy to fill a whole classroom. Collectively, their efforts lend some gravitas and humanity to a film that often prioritizes vision over narrative.

Without getting in to spoilers, the film takes a turn midway through the second act that completely shifts the experience and even the tone of the picture. One might say that the movie sets up one mystery and eventual payoff, but then deviates onto a different (and ultimately more predictable) path. Once that (unfortunately too obvious) reveal is made midway through the investigation into the disappearance of the classroom of kids–save one (Alex)–then it becomes quite the twisted fairytale. But therein likes one of the most significant problems I have with the film–because of this twist, there are questions that emerge for which we will not be provided answers. We can certainly draw conclusions, that are most likely correct, but this isn’t the type of picture that should require that level of guesswork. When that twist is revealed, explanations of reasons for the motivation and consequences, should the plan fair, are not sufficiently clear.

Horror thrives in that liminal space between order and chaos, but Weapons leans too heavily into the latter. Instead of meticulously peeling back layers to reveal a deeper truth, it obscures character arcs and emotional payoffs beneath narrative experimentation. In striving to be a psychological puzzle-box, the film forgets to provide the audience with enough meaningful pieces to solve it. As a result, Weapons leaves audiences with questions that the film should have answered because it clearly desires to be a genre horror film–it’s not Memento. However, the climax of the picture, while somewhat predictable, is none-the-less satisfyingly bold.

In the end, Weapons is a film that demands attention but struggles to justify its complexities. It will certainly appeal to fans of the prestige horror aesthetic, but despite the converging narratives it never quite hits the mark of a film that invites multiple viewings in order to fully appreciate the story and the apparatus thereof. But for general audiences, or those seeking a tightly woven narrative, the film’s impact may feel more like a glancing blow than a direct hit. Visually stunning and rich in atmosphere, Weapons captivates the senses but lacks the narrative clarity and cohesion to land its thematic strikes. A bold motion picture outing, it’s a film that’s more experience than story—one that feels sharpened in presentation but blunted in meaning.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk “where you can join the cinematic conversations frame by frame each week.” Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

BARBARIAN horror film review

Outstanding! Each and every layer of this masterful horror film is crafted with care and precision. Barbarian strikes an uncanny balance of unsettling terror juxtaposed against clever irony and humor. Writer-director Zach Cregger delivers the best horror film so far this year, and among the strongest in recent years. Not only does the film boast exceptional shot composition, the screenplay is sleek and no scene goes wasted. The fine-tuned plot mapping and story structure provide a solid foundation upon which the thoughtful story is told. I heard some in the audience make statements related to the observation that this film is largely flying under the radar, but I posit that is a good thing. While I had only seen the trailer for this film in passing, I’m glad that I didn’t know more about the premise (aside from the AirBnb setup) because it may have detracted from the visceral experience of a film that has the soul of an arthouse motion picture but the high concept of a more commercial feature. If you see it before your friends, DO NOT spoil any of the twists or turns as this film should be appreciated for the emotional and physiological roller coaster that it is. My advice is go in as blind as possible. Oh, if modern horror films had already promoted you to question ever visiting Detroit, this film will convince you to avoid the motor city.

A young woman (Tess) discovers the rental home she booked is already occupied by a stranger (Keith). Against her better judgment, she decides to spend the night but soon discovers there’s a lot more to fear than just an unexpected house guest.

Simple plot, complex characters. The recipe for a great film! But don’t let the high concept outside-action story lull you into a state of projecting predictability upon the story. Just when you feel that you may have it figured out, Cregger throws you for a loop–a loop that was setup earlier in the film unbeknownst to you. Zach Cregger has demonstrably studied masters of suspense and horror such as Hitchcock, Argento, and Craven because he took the best parts of Psycho, Suspiria, and The Hills Have Eyes to create his original expression of tried and true tentpoles of horror. In an age wherein most features are remakes of previous motion pictures, this film serves as a reminder that there are fresh ideas out there to be expressed on the silver screen. And not just original ideas, but well-written stories with solid plotting that don’t leave you wondering what you just watched. Accessibility should never be thought of as lacking meaningful substance for those that want to read the film more closely.

Whereas I won’t venture too far into the story progression, I do want to comment on the opening scene(s) because it reminded me of Suspiria. What’s funny, is that I was wearing my Suspiria t-shirt last night to the screening. I liken the opening of Barbarian to Suspiria because of the central character driving in the rain to a house whereat there is no room for her accompanied by an ominous score. Even though the score isn’t as iconic as Goblin’s score in the Argento masterpiece, the score was an extension of the increasing tension at the opening of the film. And who should finally answer the door to this rather quaint, Instagram-worthy house in the middle of a neighborhood long-condemned, but a Norman Bates-like character. The opening and entire first act setup everything that is to follow.

Georgina Campbell, who plays our central character of Tess, and Bill Skarsgard, who plays Keith, demonstrate excellent on-screen chemistry. Later on in the film when we meet actor AJ Gilbride, played by Justin Long, he complements the fantastic character dynamics and mix. Speaking of Long, there is a clever nod to Jeepers Creepers that you’ll just have to watch the film to find out. Often times, it’s horror films with small casts and intimate settings that deliver the best thrills. Because a writer can spend time on developing central and supporting characters and making sure that every scene has a beginning, middle, and end, and that every scene sets up the scene to follow. Even in a film with figurative and literal layers to the story, each scene should teach us more about the individual characters and further develop plot beats in a manner that does not make the story more convoluted, but slowly reveal the end, one layer at a time.

While I find this film to be overwhelmingly smartly executed, there are a couple of ideas that I find to be problematic, and furthering stigma and misrepresentation instead of using the opportunity to provide a more constructive depiction or argument. Of the two observations I made, I can really only touch on one of them without getting into character or plot spoilers.

When Tess discovers that there is something seriously wrong in the idyllic suburban cottage, she eventually receives a response by the police, after waiting some time. On one hand, I appreciate the setup to and this scene itself because it shows how dangerous is it for cities to reduce the public safety workforce (call it what you will), but where I find the scene problematic is that both police officers dismiss Tess’ concerns even though she is demonstrably in distress. In an era wherein a large number of media portray law enforcement in an unfair, misrepresentative light, this could have been an opportunity to show that the police could very well have been skeptical, but chose to act upon Tess’ claims. This would’ve made for a more constructive, accurate scene versus what we got. This doesn’t mean the police should have found concrete evidence or were instrumental in saving the day, but it would have helped to combat the dangerous ideology that law enforcement is irresponsible.

Deserving of a rewatch, this film is one you don’t want to miss seeing on the big screen! Not only does this film standout compared to the horror films we’ve had this year, but it is one of the best-written films of the year, period. I hope that Cregger’s next feature is as thoughtfully written and directed as this one.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1