Thread: 5/10

and if the substantial core film were only that, there might not be a great deal of grace—the type that Flannery O’Connor once wrote about—offered to its characters, and by extension, its audience.

Fortunately, the house’s foundations serve as an architecture for the film’s central thesis, which seems to be, in the most immediate sense, whether people are prone to continue repeating their mistakes, or if there is a way out. In this way, the film not only examines the

Thread: 6/10

corruption within its characters, as well as American society, but it also suggests that there may be a way forward, for some. At the center of this question of grace, then, is the film’s title. To whom does it refer? Is it the mass abductor, rapist, and presumably, serial murderer, Frank (Richard Brake) we see at the genesis of the story? Is it the bestial “mother,” who terrorizes earnest Airbnb guests? Is it the so-called “owner” of the house, played by Justin Long,

Thread: 7/10

(born to play this kind of dudebro, who along with Brake and Bill Skarsgård, comprised the film’s few actors I recognized) ostensibly wallowing in a stew of his own toxic masculinity? Is it the society, represented most clearly by the police, that turn a blind eye to the evils perpetuated in a run-down black neighborhood after white flight has taken its course?

The lack of an obvious answer to this question allows us to see more clearly what writer-director Cregger is up

Thread: 8/10

to: after all, what makes a “barbarian?” The term itself is both pejorative and at the same time, conjures the image of a strong and capable figure. Could the title therefore be applied to the main cast’s sole survivor, Tess (Georgina Campbell, in a performance that will make you believe that she is indeed terrified, tormented, and yet somehow conjures the will to, despite every instinct running counter to her actions, deny the path to safety to instead do the right thing—

Thread: 9/10

or at least, the “most right” thing the script seems willing to permit her access to)?

It is in service to this question of what the “right” thing is, the blurred lines between victims and villains, perpetrators and survivors, which is most effectively laid out within the assault of the first 1/3 of the film’s slow-burning suspense. During its strongest moments, the film seems to ask us, with an immediacy, “what would you do?” with an impact that feels both compelling

Thread: 10/...11

and viscerally effective.

This opening then gives way to a more accessible image of the question when the mysteries of the house and its inhabitants are laid bare, which then comes to a surprising, (or not) head in the third act, punctuated by AJ’s (Long) question: “Am I a bad person, or a good person who did a bad thing?” That the film appears to answer this question for AJ does not mean that the question is invalidated for other central characters, and that moral

Thread: 11/11 (thought I had it calculated at 10, but I suck with maths )

ambiguity is where Cregger’s interest seems to lie. I hope we will see more examination of that theme within the confines of the horror genre in the future from him, because there is both a lot of potential on display here, as well as some room to grow, and that’s what the best of the genre does.

Four bloody syringes out of five! 💉💉💉💉

@Apocryphiliac holy crap!

@Jezibaba Why "holy crap?"🤔 😅

@Apocryphiliac you wrote a novel. I wanna go see it now. 😁

@Jezibaba lol. A one page on MS Word doc = 11 comments on CoSo, apparently. :P

@Apocryphiliac I was just going to ask if you wrote it out first

@Jezibaba I did, just so I could proofread it... and I still had fucking errors. Oh well.

@Apocryphiliac no worries

@Jezibaba You should see it, I would love to hear your thoughts. Also wouldn’t mind talking about the characters and social context more.

@Apocryphiliac Ok, on the docket and will report back.