In the last few years, however, independent films have ushered in a new wave of what I like to call "smart horror." Yes, there are still supernatural forces to be reckoned with and villains that need to be vanquished (or at least faced). But instead of the endless onslaughts from the Freddys, Jasons, and Michaels -- who lost all credibility when they were sequeled to death -- smart horror uses its primal, psychological themes to create a more lasting fear that buckets of corn syrup just can't match. It's one thing to be afraid of the boogeyman, but it's more unsettling to be afraid of why that boogeyman exists.
Following in the recent footsteps of critically-acclaimed genre offerings like "Creep," "The Babadook," and "It Follows," "Hush" is a lean, mean, smart-horror machine. The film debuted in March at the SXSW Film Festival, where it was acquired by Netflix and released via streaming in April. Clocking in at barely 80 minutes from fade in to fade out, "Hush" tells the story of a woman alone at home who is being stalked by a masked killer. Sound familiar? Think again! This movie wastes no time in ejecting the cliches and standard plot mechanisms to create a refreshingly original and disturbing work of horror cinema.
Plenty of movies try to reinvent or reinvigorate their genre, but few actually succeed. First and foremost, "Hush" is surprisingly empowering for an industry that treats women as disposable and marginalizes people who are differently-abled. Our heroine, Maddie, is deaf. Rather than having her condition become her downfall, or worse, a joke (like the borderline-insensitive Deaf Taylor Swift character in the first episode of Fox's "Scream Queens"), her situation is legitimately explored as she is forced to adapt her fight for survival. That realism, courtesy of Kate Siegel's potent screenplay and her bravura performance as Maddie, is largely what makes "Hush" work.
There's no suspension of disbelief required; instead, the chills are genuine because we experience how such an ordeal would actually play out for someone like Maddie... and in turn, how it could even happen to any of us under other circumstances. Long stretches of the film have little if any dialogue, and at times, the sound is strategically removed. There's also an inspired sequence of fight-or-flight deliberation that catches you off-guard with its panic factor and shock value in a movie that already prides itself on delivering the unexpected. Yes, some gore is visible, but only an amount that's absolutely necessary to tell the story, and it's all medically accurate (no red geysers here!) These details put the audience right in the main character's shoes, which is what every horror director should aspire to for maximum investment in what's happening on the screen.
This deeply rooted connection to Maddie's plight would have been enough to set the movie apart from its contemporaries, but "Hush" throws away the map and takes a few of the roads less traveled. When the killer first looks through Maddie's window and slowly realizes that she's deaf, there's the faintest sign of hesitation or even remorse for what he plans to do. In any other movie, she'd probably be dead right away and he'd be on to the next victim. He even takes off the mask to bond with her (in his own twisted way), as if to prove that he's a flesh-and-blood human and not some unkillable monster, daring her to challenge him.
As the killer continues to toy with Maddie, threatening to only enter the house once she gives up hope, we learn next to nothing about this man. Not his name, not his backstory or motive -- just that he's there and he needs to be stopped. Maddie rises to the occasion, of course, but it could be argued that the randomness of the killer's presence is a metaphor for all the nameless, faceless evils that exist in the world and how we choose to fight back. And what better forum is there to grapple with the daily perils of society than a horror movie?
Understandably, some of the suspense evaporates when the killer finally makes his move, but the film still generates intensity right up until its final frames. By using point-of-view and tracking shots throughout to subtly reveal the layout of the house, we're made subconsciously aware of the inevitable showdown without it being any less cathartic. That release of tension is certainly earned, and the overall experience of "Hush" sticks with you viscerally as well as intellectually. The movie is over, while life in this crazy, messy world goes on. You may not double-check the locks to keep out the boogeyman, but you do it anyway because he represents something out there that we don't want to think about. It takes smart horror like "Hush" to remind us of what it really means to survive.
No comments:
Post a Comment