Night Shift
M Night Shyamalan’s latest big swing comes close to being a home run but ends up a solid double.
Knock at the CAbin
Director: M Night Shyamalan • Writers: M Night Shyamalan, Steve Desmond, Michael Sherman, based on the novel by Paul Tremblay
Starring: Dave Bautista, Jonathan Groff, Ben Aldridge, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Kristen Cui, Abby Quinn, Rupert Grint
USA • 1hr 40mins
Opens Hong Kong February 2 • IIB
Grade: B
One thing director M Night Shyamalan cannot be accused of is cowardice. Love him or hate him, his best films – and even his weakest – at the very least are big, bold swings for the fences that too many filmmakers and big streamers who are desperate for content are just not interested in. And when someone does roll the dice, they’re generally shuffled off to the art house circuit (Titane and Annette spring to mind quickly) or canned for cost savings.
There’s no killer twist in Shyamalan’s latest, Knock at the Cabin, something he couldn’t resist even as recently as Old. Knock trades in standard, tension-ratcheting psycho-thriller machinations that roll M Night’s favourite subtextual filling – the stresses of child-rearing – in a pastry of trauma, paranoia, the push-pull of faith and logic, the nature of truth in an age of willing misinformation (delivered and received) and our increasing penchant for creating our own comfortable narratives. It’s a lot, but Shyamalan’s signature formal creativity is on display as usual, and even if the film isn’t a blazing success, it’s never dull, and has the potential to grow on you.
There’s four… Are you really surprised?
Hollywood’s best wrestler-turned-actor (sorry, Dwayne) Dave Bautista is fantastically cast as Leonard, literally a gentle giant who eight-year-old Wen (newcomer Kristen Cui) meets in the woods outside her family’s Architectural Digest-ready vacation rental. They catch grasshoppers for a bit, but Wen gets the creeps when Leonard’s medieval weapon-toting pals turn up. She runs home to warn her dads Eric (Jonathan Groff) and Andrew (Fleabag’s Ben Aldridge), just before the four intruders (get it? Four?), ahem, knock at the cabin. Leonard is joined by Sabrina (Nikki Amuka-Bird, Old, apocalyptic mini-series Hard Sun), Adriane (Abby Quinn) and Redmond (Rupert Grint), who tell Eric and Andrew they need to make a willing sacrifice from the among the three to prevent the end of humanity. No pressure.
Little by little the quartet chips away at Eric’s resolve – we learn in flashbacks he might be pretty Catholic – while simultaneously hardening Andrew’s, the reasons for which are also revealed in those same flashbacks. As soon as “message boards” are mentioned the guests’ story gets dodgier, and Andrew and Redmond share a background that makes the foursome’s appearance dodgier still. The disasters and plagues Leonard claims begin because the family refuses to choose come fast and furious, and the four horsemen also fall victim to their resistance.
The ludicrous story (and it is ludicrous, Shyamalan’s favourite kind) works thanks to some nuanced, unsettling camera work by DOPs Jarin Blaschke and Lowell A Meyer (the subjective The Silence of the Lambs-style direct POV shots are suitably disconcerting) and Bautista’s contrarian performance. He looks enormous (because he’s fuckin’ huge), but he’s never less than polite. He understands the impossible situation Eric and Andrew are in, but he’s resolute in his mission. He’s entirely threatening and he can be heartbreaking. It’s the kind of performance Blade Runner 2049 hinted was lurking under the muscles and ink, and which finally reveals itself. Ditto for Ron Weasley, who does a great hair-trigger asshole.
If Knock at the Cabin has major flaws they’re Shyamalan’s (ironic) refusal to stick his neck out and just go there, and to pick a side. Is this a Straw Dogs-style home invasion rooted in real bigotry (as Andrew believes) or a truly supernatural last stab at preventing the end of the world? Both are fine, but the more realistic option is the better film. Shyamalan pulls his punches to create an ambiguous (it must be said, unsatisfyingly so) happy ending, one that Paul Tremblay’s book, The Cabin At The End Of The World, absolutely did not. That was a missed opportunity for some serious ballsiness.
Still, Knock at the Cabin also makes crystal clear a degree of maturity that’s been creeping into Shyamalan’s work for some time. The Big Twists are getting less big, or vanishing altogether, and he’s leaning into the “Hitchcockian” label he was slapped with early in his career: more slow-burning tension, more suggested violence (those falling planes are terrifying), more psychological grey areas. It seems the kid who revelled in shock tactics has grown up. — DEK