Hush, Hush...Seriously, STFU

I'm back.  You'll notice the parades, the funfetti, the crying children, the hula dancers...personally, I thought the saturnalia was unnecessary.  I'm just one horror blogger in a briny basin of undulating horror bloggers.  But whatever, DEREK.  I saw a movie the other day.  A whole movie!  It's called Hush, and it's generating a payload of buzz right now.  When I first heard about it, I couldn't believe that a forgettable Gwyneth Paltrow vehicle from 1998 was being given a second chance at prominence.  Then I realized that this was a more recent film, a near-slasher whose deaf lead is stalked by...well, the unsettling motherfucker pictured above.

Director Mike Flanagan is quietly assembling a stellar resume.  2011's Absentia far exceeded its gracile budget, and from what I understand, 2013's Oculus was a respectable joint.  With Hush, he puts his stamp on the thriller subgenre.  It's a good stamp.  The tension is keyed up to levels of "oh shit" and "oh fuck."  You want to see Maddie - our protagonist - survive this game.  She is played to perfection by co-writer Kate Siegel (had no idea she was married to Flanagan...plot twist!).  I recommend Hush full-sail, but it does have its faults.  The killer takes off his mask in the first act where he is exposed as a minor-league douchebag.  Up to that point, the "Myers-lite" gimmick was working for him.  Why demystify it?

Still, Paltrow turns in a magic(k)al performance, and remember, this was right after Se7en.  How the fuck did she regain her head?  That's acting, my friends.

No comments:

Post a Comment