Weapons

Rating 9/10

Zach Cregger and Trevor Moore were more than collaborators—they were close friends whose bond shaped their storytelling. Best remembered for their work together on The Whitest Kids U’ Know, they built a sketch comedy show that made an impression. Their partnership extended beyond that TV series, spanning films, live projects, and ongoing creative ventures. When Moore tragically passed away in 2021, the loss was profound. In a recent interview, Cregger acknowledged that grief became the genesis for Weapons, a creation born from tragedy and transformed into a haunting piece of art.

I was a fan of Cregger’s debut, Barbarian. That nifty 2022 gem was about a woman who discovers a strange man already staying at her double-booked Airbnb. The director showed his knack for twisting expectations. But nothing prepared me for the brilliance of his follow-up. I consider it not only my favorite horror movie of 2025 (a year that includes hits like Sinners, Final Destination: Bloodlines, and 28 Years Later) but also one of the best of the year.

One night, an entire class of seventeen children runs from their homes at exactly 2:17 a.m. and vanishes without a trace.  Only one boy, Alex (Cary Christopher), shows up to school the next day.  Their teacher, Justine (Julia Garner), becomes a suspect and faces the wrath of the town’s parents.  Marcus (Benedict Wong), the school principal, tries to keep order.  A frustrated father, Archer (Josh Brolin), with a missing child launches his own investigation.  There’s also a police officer, Paul (Alden Ehrenreich), assigned to the case, and James (Austin Abrams), a homeless drug addict, who gets drawn into the unfolding problem.

While Weapons is rooted in suspense, it also weaves in moments of  dark comedy that offer relief.  These comedic beats often arise from character interactions and dialogue, helping the narrative by humanizing the people and balancing the intense atmosphere.

It’s a brilliant setup, a puzzle I was instantly hooked on solving. Cregger tells the story in six chapters, each devoted to a different character, with title cards introducing the next character we’ll meet. With each shift in perspective, we get more clues, piecing the mystery together bit by bit. Just when you think you know where it’s going, a new detail recontextualizes everything you’ve seen thus far. The whole picture doesn’t emerge until the very end, but when it does, the payoff is immensely satisfying. The ending is an emotional catharsis.

I won’t say much more about the plot. One of this thriller’s greatest pleasures is the way it gradually reveals itself. Part of that surprise comes from an actor whose presence has been wisely kept out of the marketing. I didn’t know they were in the film when I saw it. I was glad for that unspoiled joy. Avoiding social media will be tough, though. The Oscar campaign will have to reveal this person eventually. Yes, I am predicting there will be one. See the movie soon if you can.

The camerawork is masterfully eerie, often emphasizing shadowy spaces. The image of children running down the street with arms outstretched in the moonlight has become ubiquitous. Another memorable moment occurs in a sequence shot from inside a car, where a figure slowly emerges from the doorway of a house. The slow pans, creeping zooms, and melding with the score create phenomenal set pieces of anxiety.

When Josh Brolin’s character walks into his son’s room in a dream, what unfolds is something I thought about for days. Sometimes, simply lingering on a face or an object can create absolute dread if filmed with the proper technique. Cinematographer Larkin Seiple (Swiss Army Man, Everything Everywhere All at Once) proves to be a master craftsman.

These aren’t cheap jump scares but weird images that stay with you. That said, when violence does arrive—rare though it is—it’s startlingly gory. Brace yourself. And that’s only the beginning of how completely this movie captivated me. The music, composed by brothers Ryan and Hays Holladay with contributions from Cregger, blends pulsing techno-like beats with unsettling atmospheric textures. It was developed in close collaboration with the editing team to build tension without overpowering the visuals.

If I have one quibble, it’s that a supernatural element in the narrative means much of the secret hinges on events that require a leap of faith. But sticking the landing is what matters most in horror. Too often, these pictures start strong only to fall apart in the final act. Weapons creates a situation, builds a deep hunger in the audience for justice, and then delivers an ending so unequivocally effective that it becomes a release. The experience left me shaken but clear-headed enough to know that I had witnessed the birth of a new classic.

08-07-25