This film totally confounds expectations.
That’s wholly appropriate, since “startling” has been the hallmark of this sharply conceived series. These scripts have teeth ... and not just those belonging to the nightmarish predators that strike victims making the slightest sound. John Krasinski has co-written and co-produced all three, and he directed the first two; he and his co-writers don’t hesitate to surprise and upset viewers.
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| Moving as quickly as possible — without making any noise! — Eric (Joseph Quinn) and Sam (Lupita Nyong'o) cross an open street while searching for a safe place to hid. |
The setting is New York, roughly a year prior to the events in 2018’s first film. Things begin quietly, as Samira (Lupita Nyong’o) contemplates another dull, grinding day as a terminally ill cancer patient, in a hospice facility outside the city. She’s stuck at anger, in the five stages of grief ... or, perhaps, she settled on anger after dismissing bargaining and acceptance.
Her only friend is her service cat, Frodo, aka — as we’ll soon discover — The World’s Greatest And Most Resourceful Feline.
Reuben (Alex Wolff), her care nurse, is impressively patient; Sam, bitter and waspish, is unwilling to “play nice” during group sessions. An outing to Manhattan also holds no interest, until she makes Reuben promise that they’ll stop for pizza at Patsy’s, her long-ago favorite Harlem pizzaria.
Unfortunately, the outing is interrupted. Hundreds of massive, meteor-like objects crash into the city — and elsewhere, all over the world — and disgorge powerful, hostile extraterrestrials that attack without warning.
Fans of the series know that these creatures have an acute sense of hearing, but are blind and without a functional sense of smell. But the terrified Manhanttanites aren’t yet aware of this, and — with shocking rapidity — people are devoured in mid-scream, or when they slam open a car door, or drop anything ... or even cough or sneeze.
Director Michale Sarnoski — who co-wrote this script with Krasinski — doesn’t dwell on these attacks; the PG-13 rating is respected, with a lack of gore. But that doesn’t make the attacks any less terrifying, as victims are snatched out of cinematographer Pat Scola’s rat-a-tat framing shots, accompanied by heart-stopping blasts from Alexis Grapsas’ score.
The resulting blood trails also are sufficiently unsettling.
Sam is knocked unconscious during the initial chaos; she wakens inside a theater with Reuben and numerous other survivors. Her initial attempt to speak is muted by Henri (Djimon Hounsou), huddling with his family. She gets the point, and is relieved to find Frodo still at her side.
(Series fans with recognize Hounsou’s Henri from 2020’s A Quiet Place Part II.)
The obvious “monster threat” notwithstanding, Sam has an equally pressing problem: Cut off from her meds, her hour-by-hour ordeal becomes increasingly painful ... with no obvious relief in sight.
And, stubborn to the end — driven also by nostalgia — she’s determined to get that slice of pizza.
What follows emerges in a series of linked set-pieces: some horrifying, some somber, some futile. Two children huddle within the cascading waters of a park fountain, where they’re able to make a little noise. Military forces bomb the bridges leading into Manhattan, in an effort to prevent the creatures from spreading farther (ultimately doomed to fail, as we know).
A survivor panics, forcing Henri into a reaction that’s a cheeky nod to H.G. Well’s War of the Worlds ... and which distresses Henri dearly. Hounsou’s forlorn expression is shattering.
I hesitate to say more, at the risk of spoiling surprises. That said, it’s necessary to acknowledge the unexpected appearance of Eric (Joseph Quinn), a shell-shocked English law student who “attaches” himself to Sam. From this point forward, almost all of the film takes place in pantomime, supplemented by occasional comments scrawled on the pages of Sam’s notebook.
This mostly silent relationship between Sam and Eric becomes quite poignant. Nyong’o and Quinn are terrific together, and she delivers a powerful and impressively vivid performance. Nyong’o gets considerable mileage from a mildly mocking tilt of the head, or a sardonic half-smile, or — during Sam’s worst moments — teeth-baring efforts to control her rising pain.
Watching her is fascinating, as the subtlest gesture, or bit of body language, changes the context of a given moment.
The background tableaus — Manhattan’s deserted streets, shattered buildings, wrecked vehicles, bombed store fronts and more — are chilling, courtesy of Simon Bowles’ superb production design. The shear scale of destruction is shocking and, thanks to the frequent blood trails, also gruesome.
Kudos also go to cat wrangler Jo Vaughan, who built Frodo’s performance from the antics of two felines, Nico and Schnitzel.
Finally, a captivating sidebar observation, regarding the degree to which this film’s atmosphere proved infectious during Wednesday evening’s sold-out preview screening. Starting about 15 minutes in, you could have heard a pin drop. Nobody talked or moved — aside from occasional shrieks during jump-scares — until the film concluded. I’ve never witnessed a movie crowd remain so, um, quiet.
Sarnoski and Krasinski leave plenty of room, as these events conclude, for matters to move further forward. If subsequent entries continue to be this shrewdly clever, I’ll definitely be on board.
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