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Speak No Evil is a tongue-tied American remake of a Danish horror gem

James Watkins' adaptation snuffs the original’s sharp social commentary.

Speak No Evil is a tongue-tied American remake of a Danish horror gem

If you’ve been to the movies at any point this past summer, chances are you’ve encountered what’s possibly the most spoiler-heavy coming attractions preview of all time. Speak No Evil, the American remake of Danish filmmaker Christian Tafdrup’s brilliantly bleak 2022 film, candidly revealed major plot points via its own trailer, a cardinal sin for any film, let alone genre fare that’s meant to slowly build tension as unwitting protagonists slowly understand that they’ve willingly walked into a dire situation. Now that the Blumhouse project finally arrives in theaters, audiences who’ve sat through the trailer endlessly since Memorial Day will realize that there is virtually nothing left to gain from the film’s feature-length form, save for some committed central performances from actors deserving of more substantial material.

Adapted by James Watkins (the British filmmaker known for the excellent slasher Eden Lake), Speak No Evil completely eschews the original’s salient social commentary. Perhaps this is because Tafdrup’s distinctly European perspective is of little use here, even if observations about differing British and American sensibilities serve as the basis for the film’s tension. Recent London transplants Ben (Scoot McNairy), Louise (Mackenzie Davis), and their 11-year-old daughter Agnes (Alix West Lefler) embark on an Italian vacation after dad loses the opportunity that caused them to cross the pond in the first place. Exhausted of bland conversations with an uptight Danish couple that’s taken a liking to them (talk about an insulting callback), Ben and Louise are immediately charmed when they meet Paddy (standout James McAvoy) and Ciara (Aisling Franciosi), a laid-back and irreverent couple whose young son Ant (Dan Hough) is practically non-verbal. The couple explain that Ant’s tongue never fully developed, leaving him effectively mute. Despite their inability to communicate, Agnes and Ant get along wonderfully, which cements the family’s newfound bond.

The idyllic vacation is commemorated in a glossy photograph, one which arrives to Ben and Louise via post when they’ve returned to their gloomy London lives. On the back, they find an enthusiastic note from Paddy and Ciara insisting that the family come visit them in the verdant countryside. Unemployed and uninspired, Ben quickly convinces Louise to embark on a long weekend away from home. When they turn up at the remote estate, however, things get weird instantly. The guest room’s bed sheets are covered in old stains, Louise’s vegetarian dining requests are flat-out ignored, and Paddy’s behavior toward Ant escalates in aggression. While the plot effectively mirrors the one that Tafdrup (and his brother/co-writer Mads) outlined in the original film, there is a critical deficiency of pointed societal critique. Absent is the investigation into the dangers of bourgeois agreeability, in which the fear of staying in a situation that may be deadly is eclipsed by the fear of being rude for abruptly leaving because of a gut instinct.

Even underlying interrogations of masculinity are abandoned, an aspect of Tafdrup’s feature that considerably raised the stakes for the visiting family. While the beefy McAvoy certainly conveys an air of machismo that eludes the comparatively lanky McNairy, the threat of male dominance is less apparent here. While Paddy flexes his muscles, openly objectifies his wife and unsubtly hits on Louise, Ben’s own feelings of inadequacy are, in turn, only ever hinted at stemming from his wife’s wandering eye. Meanwhile, the original is far more concerned with uncovering the false protection inherent to the nuclear family. (Are you actually safe if your dad or husband isn’t equipped to protect you?) Granted, Louise easily assumes the role of valiant heroine, but the origin of her and Ben’s uniquely strained dynamic is never satisfyingly analyzed.

If this Speak No Evil remake possesses any merit whatsoever, it is entirely owed to the thespian talent involved. McAvoy is perfectly cast, his uneasy grin akin to a mangy dog baring its teeth to signify its alpha status. Irish actress Franciosi, who’s previously stunned in horror-thrillers The Nightingale and Stopmotion, is a perfect match for McAvoy, her beautiful visage barely concealing dark secrets (and hallmarks of domestic violence). McNairy plays another ill-equipped husband and father, now familiar territory for the actor after a similar role in the forthcoming Nightbitch (here’s hoping he can break from type on the next project). Davis embodies the major calling cards of a final girl, albeit one who will sacrifice anything for the collective preservation of her family. The film’s two child actors are also fairly successful, though Hough’s inability to verbally deliver lines makes every action almost unbearably heavy-handed. 

Of course, the main criticism of Watkins’ remake will be his radical departure from Tafdrup’s ending. It’s well-known that American horror adaptations typically veer toward happy endings, but incorporating that tendency here robs audiences of the darkness that the original film expected them to grapple with. It would have been far more interesting for Tafdrup to direct a shot-for-shot remake—a la Michael Haneke’s 1997 masterpiece Funny Games and its 2007 English-language counterpart—since the original Danish and Dutch families almost exclusively speak English to begin with. Although its anglophonic conceit serves to unpack their disjointed European identities, it also was a clever way to market a foreign indie horror to a major audience. By contrast, Watkins’ take on Speak No Evil lacks innovation, introspection, and, frankly, a legible narrative identity. Indeed, the film hardly says anything at all.

Director: James Watkins
Writer: James Watkins
Starring: James McAvoy, Mackenzie Davis, Aisling Franciosi, Alix West Lefler, Dan Hough, Scoot McNairy
Release Date: September 13, 2024

 
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