Quick. Has a horror film ever been set in a country home with a decent cell signal?
Nope, and there’s no signal at Paddy and Ciara’s house, either, deep in the English countryside. Soon, that landline will be cut, too, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
Paddy and Ciara are that fun-but-somewhat-odd British couple whom Louise and Ben meet early in "Speak No Evil” on their idyllic Tuscan family holiday. Americans based in London, Louise and Ben are at loose ends with both job and relationship issues. And so, when the new acquaintances write to invite them for a country weekend, they decide to go.
After all, how bad could it be?
Don’t answer that. There are many such moments in the first two-thirds of "Speak No Evil,” a Hollywood remake of the 2022 Danish film, here starring a deeply menacing James McAvoy. Moments where Louise and Ben, out of mere politeness and social convention, act against their instincts, telling them something is wrong.
Director James Watkins, and especially his excellent troupe of actors, adults and children alike, do a nice job of building tension, slowly but surely. Until all bloody hell breaks loose, of course. And then, in its third act, "Speak No Evil” becomes an entertaining but routine horror flick with predictable results.
But for a while, it’s a way more intelligent film. And the jumpy moments work – I'll confess to literally springing out of my seat when someone uneventfully turned on a power drill.
We begin in stunning Tuscany, where Louise (Mackenzie Davis, in the film’s most accessible and empathetic performance) and Ben (Scoot McNairy, all nerves and insecurity) are vacationing with 11-year-old daughter Agnes (Alix West Lefler). At the pool, they meet Paddy (McAvoy) and Ciara (Aisling Franciosi), a British couple with a disabled son, Ant, apparently born without a proper tongue.
One day in town, Paddy offers Agnes a ride on his Vespa. Louise is frightened to see her daughter disappear on the motorbike with a strange man, but it would be churlish to say no, right?
In briefly sketched backstories, we learn that Louise and Ben moved to London for Ben’s job, but he was soon downsized out. As for Paddy, all we know is he’s a doctor.
At least, we think he is. The Americans, accepting the weekend invitation back to England, arrive at the secluded country home in the dead of night. Immediately, something feels off. The rooms are quirky but musty, and the sheets are stained. How can a doctor live like this, Louise asks? Ben brushes off her concern, quipping that even Downton Abbey is in terrible shape.
When the couple cooks dinner, Paddy proudly explains they’ve butchered their prize goose in their guests’ honor. Even though he knows she’s a vegetarian, he proffers Louise a forkful. Louise is disgusted but politely takes a bite.
Daughter Agnes, too, is freaked out. She’s being made to sleep on the floor next to Ant (Dan Hough, poignant in a role with no words.) The next evening, when everyone dresses for a special dinner out, Paddy and Ciara inform Louise and Ben that the kids will stay home with a strange male babysitter. "We’ve had mannies before,” Ben tells Louise unconvincingly.
Soon, though, we have the obligatory attempt to flee, followed by the "Oh no, we have to go back” moment – you know, where you’re yelling: "No!” But return, the family does.
In perhaps the movie’s most effective scene, the two kids have put together a dance routine. The parents sit back proudly to watch, but repeatedly, Paddy stops the routine to brutally admonish his son, telling him he’s out of rhythm. McAvoy, a terrific actor who has made villainy part of his potent toolbox, is truly chilling as he becomes unhinged by his son’s inability to keep time.
Then there’s the scene fans of "The Shining” will recognize as the "Here’s Johnny,” Jack Nicholson moment. By then, everything’s gone off the rails, and it’s time for the blood to flow, predictably.
If there’s a moral here, it’s to trust those instincts when things feel wrong. But if movie characters did that, the horror genre would not exist.
Still, there's some satisfaction to be had, especially in the creative use of household implements to inflict pain and death. Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold – except in horror films, where it is served raw and bloody, with a side of toxic cleaning fluid.
