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.
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