Let’s dive into this year’s marathon by exploring my thoughts on one of 2022’s most hyped horror flicks. Grindhouse aesthetic with something to say is becoming one of my favorite modern styles.
Have you ever had a movie spoiled for you by just how vigorously everyone warned you against spoilers? I wouldn’t say that Barbarian was spoiled for me, per say, but I had a pretty good idea going in that things would not play out as they initially seemed. That does impact the viewing experience, and in a perfect world we would experience all entertainment unsullied by preconception or expectation, but I’m not too bothered by such things in general. Here I am, doing the same thing to you, and I don’t really feel bad about it. I don’t even know how to talk about Barbarian if I can’t get us past the first act, so if you haven’t seen it and you want to keep your spoilers of the vague variety, then turn back now. It’s a wild ride, you should just go watch it and come back when you’re done.
Still here? Ok, then. If I hadn’t known better when I started the movie, the initial twenty minutes or so would have had me bracing for the type of conventional thriller that passes the time but rarely leaves much of an impact on me. Our protagonist, Georgina Campbell, arrives at her AirBNB late at night only to find that it’s already occupied by Pennywise himself, Bill Skarsgard. The film plays coy with Skarsgard’s intentions, alternately teasing that he is a genuinely nice guy, a “nice guy” that will not react well to rejected romantic advances, or possibly some kind of tortuous psychopath. Since that was clearly the debate the audience was intended to be having, and most of the recommendations of Barbarian made it clear that it would head in unexpected directions, I didn’t really buy it. That said, I can’t fault the execution of the first act. The acting is really solid, and the tension builds even if you have a hunch that there is something else going on (my initial assumption was a haunting of some sort). Campbell makes a winsome final girl-to-be, and none of her decisions leave you rolling your eyes or questioning her survival instincts. In fact, that is key to one of the movie’s primary themes.
Campbell and Skarsgard’s reactions to their initially-awkward situation, and then as something sinister seems to be afoot, are very telling. Campbell is cautious, reserved, perpetually on edge. Skarsgard is cavalier, more concerned with making Campbell feel comfortable than himself, because he is much harder to rattle. That is where the plot mechanics are very smart, because they signal that their differences are not personality-based, but gender-based. As my wife and I discussed while we watched, I felt like I would behave similarly to the man, and she felt like she would behave similarly to the woman, and moreover, I would want and expect her to behave at least as cautiously if she ever found herself in the same situation. Sure, bad things happen to men, and women can specifically do bad things to men, but statistically speaking, Campbell’s weariness is well-earned. In the next two acts, the movie will give plenty of examples of the reasons that women feel like their radars need to be perpetually up.
If Skarsgard is relatively less cautious, then Justin Long, introduced in act two, is downright brazen. Playing a famous actor, Long is all unchecked id, careening through life without thought to the impact his actions have on others, even when society starts to hold him to task for those impacts in the form of career and legal woes brought on by a sexual assault allegation. In a hilarious scene that underlines Long’s oblivious assumption that his actions are free of consequence, he discovers what is clearly a hidden snuff film room set up in his rental property (the same one from act one), and his only reaction is one of elation as he measures the dimensions so he can inflate the property’s selling price. Long is not the ugliest face of male entitlement in the movie, however, and even launches on a redemptive arc of self-reflection that may or may not pan out by the time the credits roll.
I’ll avoid any more specifics for all the reasons stated above, but I do want to articulate that, despite some heavy themes, this is a blast of a movie. There is a real sense that anything can happen, and it does not let itself get morose or nihilistic even though it touches on some real ugly business. I probably do wish I had gone in completely in the dark, but without the palpable excitement of all those reviewers and friends telling me what to expect by trying to not tell me what to expect, there is a good chance I would have never watched it all. So if I have enticed any of you reading this to give it a try, sorry for the spoilers but you’ll thank me in the end anyway.
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