A QUIET PLACE (2018) – Film Review
So when I
saw ads for A Quiet Place, I had no
plans to see it. Why would I? The last movie I’d seen in theaters that had any
real horror elements was Cloverfield—and
that was ten years ago. It would take a unique set of circumstances to lure me
into a darkened movie theater for a terror-stricken stroll down Horror Movie
Lane.
But then
the reviews started coming in, and the more I heard from people I follow and
trust, the more intrigued I became. Evidently, A Quiet Place wasn’t your typical horror film, for several reasons—reasons
that made me think I might actually want to see it. Over the last couple weeks,
my excitement grew strong, palpable enough to convince my wife (who also hates
horror films) to agree to see the movie with me on a date night. (I now owe her
an uncomplaining viewing of The Greatest
Showman.)
As a
reminder, I rate movies based on three criteria: content (C), artistic merit
(A), and my personal opinions (P).
CONTENT
(C): 10 out of 10
When it
comes to questionable content, A Quiet
Place is indeed an atypical horror movie. No gratuitous gore. No gratuitous
sex. No gratuitous language. In addition, the story revolves around thematic
ideas worth contemplating: paternal love, loss and regret, the importance of
faith, and the inherent value of human life (born and unborn), just to name a
few.
ARTISTRY
(A): 9 out of 10
As
a visual medium, film can communicate a wealth of information without dialogue.
Practically every other form of storytelling demands the use of spoken words.
It is theoretically possible, however, for a movie to tell an engaging story with
no words at all.
In
A Quiet Place, characters speak to
each other using normal voices in only two short scenes. The rest of the time,
the main characters communicate through American Sign Language (with subtitles
provided for those unfamiliar with ASL). Thus, a majority of A Quiet Place is dialogue free, and the
filmmakers take advantage of these limitations to communicate to the audience
through other visual and auditory means. The ability for us to remain
enraptured for 90 minutes without almost nary a word spoken is a testament to the
skills of John Krasinski and his creative team, both in front of and behind the
camera.
This
is truly a story that could only be told through the medium of film. According
to sound editor Ethan Van der Ryn, the aural design in A Quiet Place is “something that’s totally cinematic. There would
be no other way of getting that feeling. We can’t get that feeling from reading
it in a book, or from hearing it on the radio alone, or from seeing it in a
play. It’s a unique experience that we could only have in cinema.”
To
illustrate the movie’s effect: my wife and I were concerned that some people
who were talking fairly loudly behind us would be a distraction during the
movie. Before the first scene had ended, however, all surrounding
noise—talking, popcorn eating, bag rustling—ceased. Except for the sounds emanating
from the speakers, our theater became a literal quiet place.
The
acting is superb all around, but the highlight is possibly Noah Jupe as young
Marcus Abbott, being trained by his father to help care for the family in a
dystopian world which the boy finds terrifying. The musical score by Marco
Beltrami conveys a genuine sense of dread without being atonal or needlessly
grating. The musical motif for the family starts with the same three notes as
the main theme for The Ring (one of
the few other horror films I have actually seen), which I found a bit
distracting at first, but I soon found other sights and sounds to be more
distracting (in a good way).
Some
have criticized a certain aspect of the film’s resolution (whether because it
is too obvious or simple), and I can appreciate their point. At the same time,
I don’t think it gets anywhere close to derailing the narrative. And the last
shot is a nearly pitch-perfect way to conclude the film with a note of hopeful
expectation.
PREFERENCE
(P): 7 out of 10
I found the
movie not nearly as scary as I thought it would be. Unrelentingly tense, yes,
but not in a way that subjected me to abject terror. Granted, I had cheated a
bit by reviewing the jump scenes in the movie at the website Where’s the Jump?
Maybe it’s
because I’m now a father, but the family dynamics in the movie made me tear up
on several occasions. (Then again, I have a history of crying during movies,
so there’s that to consider.) It is these relationships that give the film its
dramatic weight. We’re not gleefully waiting to see who’s going to bite it
next; we’re anxiously anticipating the next incident and hoping everything
somehow turns out all right.
Speaking of the family dynamics, it is a pleasure to see real-life husband-and-wife-team John Krasinski and Emily Blunt playing the part of a married couple onscreen. Maybe this is so refreshing because of what I’ve been researching over the last few years: how actors’ privacy, dignity, and sexuality are repeatedly violated through the improper use of onscreen sex and nudity. This often happens as actors sexually engage with other actors who aren’t their spouses. With this reality lodged in my consciousness, it’s a relief to see a real husband and wife display physical affection to each other, without any inappropriate or titillating material. The one scene in which Krasinksi and Blunt share a chaste and tender moment of affection is what film critic Steven D. Greydanus rightly calls “the most tender screen dance in ages.” The love found within a covenant relationship is right and good and beautiful and attractive, and it is a pleasure to see even a small expression of that truth in a major studio production. More of that, please!
During the process of watching the movie, I will admit that I admired it more than I enjoyed it. There’s also a third-act plot point that left me with something of a bitter aftertaste, although that may be more of a personal preference than an actual artistic critique. Nevertheless, A Quiet Place has stayed with me ever since I saw it, and the more I think about it, the more I like it.
CAP score: 87%
Speaking of the family dynamics, it is a pleasure to see real-life husband-and-wife-team John Krasinski and Emily Blunt playing the part of a married couple onscreen. Maybe this is so refreshing because of what I’ve been researching over the last few years: how actors’ privacy, dignity, and sexuality are repeatedly violated through the improper use of onscreen sex and nudity. This often happens as actors sexually engage with other actors who aren’t their spouses. With this reality lodged in my consciousness, it’s a relief to see a real husband and wife display physical affection to each other, without any inappropriate or titillating material. The one scene in which Krasinksi and Blunt share a chaste and tender moment of affection is what film critic Steven D. Greydanus rightly calls “the most tender screen dance in ages.” The love found within a covenant relationship is right and good and beautiful and attractive, and it is a pleasure to see even a small expression of that truth in a major studio production. More of that, please!
During the process of watching the movie, I will admit that I admired it more than I enjoyed it. There’s also a third-act plot point that left me with something of a bitter aftertaste, although that may be more of a personal preference than an actual artistic critique. Nevertheless, A Quiet Place has stayed with me ever since I saw it, and the more I think about it, the more I like it.
CAP score: 87%