On an aesthetic level, Weapons is extremely sufficient horror. Normally I prioritize writing over everything else. The writing here was simplistic, but I still enjoyed the watch — which says a lot about how good the style is. The anthology-like narrative really worked for me.
There is a bit of a JJ Abrams aura to Zach Cregger’s work. You’ve got the hook, and the mystery, but there are a lot of elements that don’t matter by the end. It works when you watch it the first time and you don’t know where it’s going. You might even have so much fun that you don’t end up caring.
Barbarian started with a hook (AirBNB gone evil) that ultimately had very little to do with the meat of the story. Weapons used the hook of something terrible happening to children, evoking school shootings, and then also said nothing at all about that. Arguably, Barbarian had more to say about the sinister nature of the suburbs, and way more to say about generational trauma, but Weapons is a lot more watchable because it’s edited better.
I was hoping for something a bit more Longlegs, or even Us, but it doesn’t really leave the room for thinking about it once it’s over. Us remains an imperfect, messy metaphor that raises questions about social stratification. Longlegs resonated with me about the violence of motherhood and transience of having babies.
“The witch is a parasite!” shouts Weapons, and then says nothing else about it.
I don’t feel like I missed a single darn thing with Weapons. I have no questions.
Several parts of the movie are just lengthy character pieces where these characters’ nonexistent development don’t have any payout.
You’re still going to have to follow the Silver Surfer around while she sources vodka and gets slapped by some hideous cop’s wife. What does that mean? How does it impact the story? How does it tie into the theme? It doesn’t, really. It’s not the point.
What about the dad who is so upset missing his son that he’s taking it out on the schoolteacher, until he abruptly doesn’t?
Is the cop really just established as a scumbag so we don’t mind that he’s killed without any real irony or meaning?
Also, using such a straightforward witch stereotype for our villain Gladys only really works if you’re Robert Eggers, where leaning on traditions so hard manages to loop back around to subversion. A lot could be said about the visual vocabulary used for Gladys — and witches in general — and blood libel — but there’s so little going on here, it doesn’t feel worth mustering the energy.
She’s a spooky old balding lady who uses the energy of children to feed herself, as witches do. The end. (I have to note that, like Longlegs, Gladys has some queer coding, but unlike Longlegs, Weapons goes out of its way to brutally murder a gay couple on screen.)
Again: This movie made very well for something that ultimately felt entirely insubstantial.
I do recommend Weapons for horror fans, but I strongly recommend you go to this one for the vibes, a Roald Dahl-esque witch, and some nice camera work. Try to watch it in a group if you can; I think the social experience probably elevates this a lot. Everything magical about Weapons happens away from the screenplay. It’s fine horror. Just fine.
