While by no means a horror movie expert, I can understand the immediate and terrifying appeal of Weapons. Written and directed by Zach Cregger, the film creates a compelling mystery that—for most of its runtime—shrouds an unknowable thing at its centre. That alone is enough to power its narrative, goosed as expected by unsettling images and intense jump scares.
Via an episodic structure of shifting perspectives, Weapons lays out its terms: one night, an entire classroom of children (save one) runs off into the night, never to be heard from again. That’s the hook of Cregger’s crafty film, a tragic and nonsensical case of disappearance that bedevils an entire town; the classroom’s teacher, Justine (Julia Garner), local police (including Alden Ehrenreich and Toby Huss), and angry parents (like Josh Brolin’s beleagured dad Archer) are among those bereft of closure. Cregger’s script preys on this confusion, delightfully doling out just enough information to have us leaning forward in our seats, before blasting us back with shocking horror. In the process, his film draws on different sources of personal and public unrest—substance abuse, techno-surveillance, institutional incompetence—to pull the viewer towards various guesses as to where this is all going. In their performances of trauma and pain (particularly Garner’s multi-faceted educator), the actors succeed in enlivening these thematic suggestions, doing more than Cregger’s writing to that end. His eventual goal is simpler than that, and more violent. It’s darkly funny too, which offers some additional relief and satisfaction.
As the conclusion of Weapons does come into view, however, there’s the creeping sense that no gonzo reveal could top the dark conjurings of our own imaginations. Though the film’s climax is fearsome, getting a grip on its unknown has a diminishing effect. Credit to Cregger for still achieving an overpowering dread throughout, but like its central figures, who are indeed granted something of an answer by the end, perhaps it’s better not to know.
