★★★★
A knot forms from the start Don’t say anything badJames Watkins’ Devon-set remake of Christian Tafdrup’s 2022 Danish original. It is a simple tie, a simple clove, and hidden under a veil of kindness. Indeed, the first thirty minutes of the film are really very funny. Scholarly, witty and surprisingly scatological. And yet, as things progress, as the peril increases and shades of shadow give way to a stunning chasm of darkness, the knot tightens. Too late, it’s you. The loop opens and you fall. This is no longer a problem. It’s an executioner’s knot.
Watkins’ view is somewhat more acceptable than Tafdrup’s. The biting social satire is retained, the nihilistic inclinations are toned down. Where there was no sympathetic soul in the original villain, the hammer of judgment falls with a little more clarity. It’s always like this, right? However, Watkins’ film has at least a certain peculiarity, the translation proving as effective in the new language as in the old. There is even something of the English folk tradition embedded in the ready-made horror of the tale, a legacy worthy of the lush, rolling landscape in which it now rises. It’s in the soundscape composed by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans, the underdog and malevolence of a decidedly nasty late reveal.
Sinking into darkness, the film opens with warmer climbs. Mackenzie Davis and Scoot McNairy play Louise and Ben Dalton, an American couple vacationing with their young daughter – Alix West Lefler’s Agnes – in sunny Italy. Already, there is a slight embarrassment. There is tension between Ben and Louise, while, in a different tone, Agnes falls into distress whenever she is separated from her beloved comfort bunny. In Italy, the Daltons meet Paddy and Ciara, a British couple hosted by James McAvoy and Aisling Franciosi. She is gently charming, he is forcefully funny. Their son – Dan Hough’s Ant – has no say in the matter. He has no tongue and literally cannot speak any evil. Hough, a newcomer, is great.
Bonded by place and by the community of horror shared by horrible people, the two families connect. Paddy’s offer of a suite in Devon, although met with evasive smiles, proves difficult to resist when a return to dreary London revitalizes old wounds. And so that’s what they do. However, you should never run away from your problems. Admittedly, this seems like a bad resort when these problems prove all too capable of surviving the journey southwest. To that end, Ben’s unemployment and Louise’s infidelity are easy targets in a household dynamic that’s a bit more aggressive than the hay bales and homemade booze suggest.
The key to the horror experience of Don’t say anything bad is an understanding of the societal norms that allow events to unfold. At any point in the film, particularly in the first half, Louise and Dan could rewrite their story. They could say no to Paddy’s unreasonable demands, just as they could denounce his increasingly passive attacks. The signs are all there. McAvoy is, to this end, alarmingly effective. Once a Hollywood idol, the Scot exerts his earthly charms with disturbing acuity. It’s a stunning performance – a tour de force in execution – and proves essential to the film’s ability to stand out from an already acclaimed original. His Paddy is charm personified, evil incarnate and the stuff of nightmares.
As the final act looms, nuance falls victim to a more frenetic pace. A verbose, somewhat redundant vocalization of events and themes only briefly interrupts a gallop toward a finish line that seems refreshingly unpredictable. Having built his horror on buildings of tension and social anxiety, Watkins pierces the palpable with a deft stroke. It’s a nice finish. Nice, but mean.
T.S.