Weapons [Review]
“Because the night before, at 2:17 in the morning, every kid woke up, got out of bed, walked downstairs, and into the dark... and they never came back.”
Weapons is an intriguing film, directed by Zach Cregger and edited in a non-linear format that follows individual character arcs until they converge in the climax. The story begins with the arrival of teacher Justine Gandy (played by Julia Garner), who discovers that 17 of her homeroom students have vanished without a trace—all except one: Alex Lily. When local surveillance footage is reviewed, it reveals that at 2:17 a.m., each child opened their front door and disappeared into the night. Justine, unable to let it go, becomes plagued by disturbing nightmares and begins stalking Alex, following him to his home. Meanwhile, across town, Archer Graff (played by Josh Brolin)—whose son Matt was among the missing—also suffers from nightmares and launches his own investigation. The film introduces several other key characters: Paul (Alden Ehrenreich), Justine’s ex and a local police officer; Marcus (Benedict Wong), the school principal; and James (Austin Abrams), a drug addict who breaks into Alex’s home and uncovers the horrifying truth behind the disappearances.
The film is expertly shot by Everything Everywhere All at Once cinematographer Larkin Seiple, featuring lingering shots of darkness and wide-angle compositions. These scenes, held just a few seconds too long, ratchet the tension to an almost unbearable degree. You hold your breath, anticipating the inevitable jump scare—and boy, are there jump scares. They’re timed with precision—not as overtly carnivalesque as a Blumhouse production, but enough to leave you gripping your seat. The sequences of people sprinting full-speed toward the camera, eyes bulging, trigger something primal. I don’t know what evolutionary instinct makes us recoil from such imagery, but the dread it evokes is visceral.
The acting is stellar, particularly from child actor Cary Christopher (Alex) and Amy Madigan (Gladys, Alex’s “aunt”). Their scenes together are heartbreaking, especially Alex’s internal struggle—his ability to convey emotion through his eyes is remarkable. The film also balances horror with unexpected humor, a testament to Cregger’s roots in the comedy troupe The Whitest Kids U’ Know. Like Jordan Peele, Cregger understands that comedy and horror share similar rhythms—setup, subversion, punchline, payoff—and he uses this to great effect. Weapons demonstrates Cregger’s growth since his horror debut, Barbarian: the narrative is tighter (though still 10 minutes too long), with clearer character motivations. That said, it suffers from some of the same flaws.
Spoilers Ahead
In one scene, Brolin’s Archer dreams of following his son into the night, only to find himself trapped in a loop outside his own house. Above him, the image of an automatic weapon appears, emblazoned with the number 217. My immediate thought was that the film was drawing a parallel to school shootings—17 children vanishing without reason, leaving families shattered by grief. It’s a uniquely American tragedy, one we’ve seen play out on our screens time and again: the balloons, the murals, the flowers, the hollow-eyed parents. We’ve all prayed, God, not me, not me. Yet the film does little with this theme. By the end, we learn the culprit is an evil old witch who has lured the town’s children into her home, Hansel and Gretel-style. Her motives are unclear, though it’s implied she seeks their youth and vitality.
This marks Cregger’s second film (Barbarian being the first) to feature an ugly, old woman as the antagonist. Someone should really ask him about that. The witch is a fascinating villain for this cultural moment, as women’s rights erode and traditionalist, white Christian nationalism gains political power. Historically, the witch has been a figure of female defiance against patriarchy—recently reclaimed as a feminist icon. But Gladys is a caricature: evil, ugly, bald, and worst of all, old. In the climax, she’s torn apart by the 17 missing children, now freed from her spell—but not from the trauma they’ve endured. Here, the film briefly flirts with deeper themes: How do children recover from such violence? It’s a question America grapples with daily, yet the movie only gestures toward it in its final moments.
The Vietnam War was losing its popularity over the course of several years, both with the general populace and with military insiders. The images sent overseas to Americans—depicting the devastation of war—were among the most visceral and rapid glimpses of conflict the nation had ever seen. For the first time, America had a front-row seat to terror unlike anything before. One of the most infamous moments of the war was a single photograph of a young, nude Vietnamese girl running toward the camera, arms outstretched and screaming. This image was incendiary in the American consciousness. The girl’s face is contorted in terror; she is fully nude, but what we don’t immediately realize is that she is covered in napalm, a highly caustic substance that clings to the skin and causes severe burns. The American soldiers behind her appear unaffected, walking calmly alongside the terrified Vietnamese children. This portrait changed the hearts and minds of many, turning them against the Vietnam War. And it is this very tableau—of U.S. imperialist violence and terror—that writer-director Zach Cregger chose to evoke in his film Weapons. What does Cregger try to connect here? He pulls from very evocative American imagery - Vietnam, school shootings - but ultimately he does nothing with them. In the hands of a more competent creator it could have delivered a gut punch that would have lingered long after the credits rolled and pushed the film past its horror goodness into film greatness. But it never gets there unfortunately. The message never gets delivered, and at the end I was left with a feeling of pointlessness. What what was point of the violence I just witnessed?
I give Weapons a 3.5/5. It’s competently filmed, edited, and acted, with a strong score. But I need Cregger to take a stand, to say something meaningful instead of skirting the issues. It’s bizarre to see a filmmaker unafraid to splatter brains on-screen yet too timid to comment on gun violence or personal issues. Here’s hoping his next film ditches the evil old ladies and delves into something real.
