Five Nights at Freddy's

Director: Emma Tammi
Starring: Josh Hutcherson, Elizabeth Lail, Piper Rubio, Matthew Lillard, Mary Stuart Masterson, Kat Conner Sterling, David Lind, Christian Stokes, Joseph Poliquin, Grant Feely, Lucas Grant, Michael P. Sullivan
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

The most intriguing question to come out of director Emma Tammi's Five Nights at Freddy's is whether it's possible for an adaptation of a wildly popular video game franchise to take itself too seriously. By infusing a 'PG-13' rated, Goosebumps-style horror movie about killer animatronic animals with psychological trauma and abducted children, game creator Scott Cawthon's co-written script actually overdelivers in certain ways. But whether this was the route to take and how well the film manages to pull it all together makes for a more complicated conversation. 

Seemingly attempting to channel certain elements of heavier efforts like The Black Phone while leaning into childlike fears, it doesn't fully pick a side, but still proves enough of an anomaly to deliver a pretty fun time. Its biggest strengths and weaknesses rest entirely on a multi-layered backstory that might frustrate as many as it intrigues, though it's thoroughly watchable, leaving us with an experience a bit more agreeable than its detractors are giving it credit for. 

After assaulting a father he mistakes as a kidnapper, Mike Schmidt (Josh Hutcherson) gets fired as mall security and sent to career counselor Steve Raglan (Matthew Lillard), who offers him a thankless night guard job at the now abandoned Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, a Chuck E. Cheese-like family dining establishment in the 80's and 90's. Following some hesitancy, he eventually accepts the position when social services threaten to give custody of his young sister Abby (Piper Rubio) to their nasty estranged aunt Jane (Mary Stewart Masterson).   

With Mike responsible for keeping trespassers out of the dark, decrepit building, he falls asleep on the job, haunted by nightmares of the abduction of his younger brother Garrett (Lucas Grant) years ago, receiving cryptic clues from five mysterious children who witnessed the kidnapping. Meanwhile, the restaurant's animatronic mascots, Freddy Fazbear, Chica, Foxy and Bonnie seem to have minds of their own, displaying potentially violent tendencies. Clearly knowing more than she lets on about this place's history, local police officer Vanessa (Elizabeth Lail) attempts to show Mike the ropes. But as his visions draw him closer to the truth, Abby forges a bond with her new animal robot friends.

There's actually a fair amount to unpack plot-wise, as this isn't playing strictly in the horror realm, often more interested in deeply delving into its protagonist's emotional baggage. Mike's strained relationship with little sister Abby, her mysterious drawings, his custody battle and whatever Vanessa's hiding bare the hallmarks of an overstuffed screenplay, but it's focused enough to tie all these story threads together, even if reactions to the end result will vary.

While older fans will undoubtedly complain it's not gory or violent enough because of the 'PG-13' rating, the disturbing themes more than make up for it. This isn't scary so much as unnerving, with Mike's dream sequences standing out as the best directed sections, gaining in creepiness as he closes in on the truth about his brother and the run down restaurant. The production design, cinematography and overall retro aesthetic also goes a long way in creating an atmosphere that sells this grimy ex-eatery as a once fun destination decimated by the ravages of time. In a memorable moment, Mike watches a security training video that shows how Freddy's looked like in its prime, accurately recalling many similarly themed chains of the period. 

Since there's always something vaguely unsettling about even the cutest, cuddliest looking animal mascots (especially ones that sing and dance), it doesn't take much to get onboard with them as killing machines. Brought to life by Jim Henson's Creature Shop, their origin story is ridiculously detailed, with the movie holding it cards close to the vest before unloading everything in the third act, making inventive use of its grungy surroundings.  

As the disheveled, traumatized Mike, Hutcherson makes a suitable lead, but it's young Piper Rubio who steals this out from under him as Abby with a wisely precocious and engaging child performance that seems lifted from 80's Spielberg. The Vanessa character is slightly underwritten, but You's Elizabeth Lail definitely makes the best of it, hopefully inching her closer to the breakout role she's been due. In more nefarious turns, Mary Stuart Masterson hams it up as the cartoonishly evil aunt and Matthew Lillard Scream fans won't be disappointed by how much craziness he packs into his relatively brief but unhinged slice of screen time. 

That Blumhouse's latest is splitting critics and audiences down the middle isn't exactly a surprise given its polarizing content and sometimes off kilter tone. This never bores or signals the coming cinematic apocalypse many have claimed, guilty mostly of just not conforming to the tropes of your typical video game adaptation. It's also hard to take your eyes off of, especially when trying to reconcile the story's bizarre intentions. But despite its flaws, or partially because of them, Five Nights at Freddy's is a weirdly entertaining trip that will have the uninitiated scratching their heads while the game's fans clamor for more.                                   

The Black Phone

Director: Scott Derrickson
Starring: Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Ethan Hawke, Jeremy Davies, E. Roger Mitchell, Troy Rudeseal, James Ransone, Miguel Cazarez Mora, Rebecca Clarke, J. Gaven Wilde, Spencer Fitzgerald, Jordan Isaiah White, Brady Ryan, Tristan Pravong, Jacob Moran, Brady Hepner, Banks Repeta
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

A crime thriller and supernatural slasher make for strange bedfellows in writer/director Scott Derrickson's The Black Phone. Adapted from a 2004 short story by Joe Hill (son of Stephen King), it's easy to see why this has gotten so much attention since there's much to admire, with some really affecting performances from its young actors and an outrageously villainous turn from a major star that feels like a drastic departure. It also sees the underrated Derrickson (Sinister and Dr. Strange) further proving his chops by bringing a certain amount of respectability and craftmanship to some familiar tropes we've seen executed far clumsier in the past. And even when mechanically fulfilling certain required beats of the plot, he still manages to keep tension high throughout, thanks in no small part to a realistically unnerving period backdrop.

Containing some effective jump scares, it opens as almost a 70's true crime docudrama before merging with a horror entry mainstream enough for its antagonist to draw comparisons to Michael Myers, Jason or Jigsaw. His methods and idealology might be different, but the spectacle is there, with an instantly iconic look that would sell truckloads of Halloween masks each year if not for the marketing hurdle that the villain's a child abductor. And that's the push-pull of this creep fest Derrickson admirably navigates with a visual aesthetic dripping in the era in which it takes place. Because of the disturbing subject matter, certain moments can be taken very seriously, as the gears grind on a plot that delivers extreme discomfort alongside its entertainment.  

In 1978 a serial kidnapper nicknamed "The Grabber"(Ethan Hawke) roams the streets of a small Denver suburb in his black van searching for his next target while siblings Finney (Mason Thames) and Gwen Blake (Madeleine McGraw) struggle to contend with their alcoholic, physically abusive father Terrence (Jeremy Davies). At school, the shy Finney is constantly bullied, with his only friend Robin (Miguel Cazarez Mora) coming to the rescue but recognizing Finney will eventually have to stand up for himself. 

With The Grabber's victims growing in number as Finney's classmates disappear, Gwen (who's inherited her late mother's psychic abilities) starts having dreams about the crimes that pique police  interest. But they'll need her help when Finney's abducted by The Grabber, awaking in a grungy basement with a disconnected black rotary phone on the wall ringing mysteriously. To escape, he'll have to listen to the voices of the previous victims making contact on the line, guiding him as he finds the courage to outmaneuver this masked monster. 

Establishing itself in a way most horror entries don't, this carries an aura of authenticity that completely draws you into the setting. From the sights and sounds to the 70's soundtrack and wardrobe choices, it's all more than mere window dressing when juxtaposed with news-style footage of the kidnappings. This overpromises in teasing a scenario you're just not sure Derrickson's script (co-penned by C. Robert Cargill) can deliver on, as we dread what potential creative concessions will come to make it more audience-friendly. Those eventually arrive, but for its opening stretch, a mood and atmosphere is established that feels truly unique. 

Believably creating a deep onscreen sibling bond, Thames and McGraw's performances are might be the film's biggest asset, as their scenes opposite a bearded, unhinged Davies carry a uneasiness matched only by the school-set bullying sequences. And a couple of those are realistically violent enough to seem completely at home in the era, relying far more on the build than copious amounts of gore. Derrickson also wisely keeps The Grabber out of view in the initial stages, saving most of the character's best scenes for when Finney ends up in his clutches. 

Coming and going as the plot dictates, Gwen's psychic visions are the story's weakest link, but McGraw's such a revelation in the role you overlook it, bringing humor, warmth and spunk to a girl who doesn't toe the line and is as protective of her brother as he is of her. Still, it's tempting to imagine how it all could have played without her Shining-like powers dictating the plot since so much of this is already strong enough on its own. While the supernatural flourishes don't ever quite reconcile with the viciousness of the actual crimes, an exception comes with a spectacularly filmed sequence where Gwen's visions take her inside the personal history of someone who could have all the answers.

If the black phone of the title connecting Finney to The Grabber's victims sometimes feels gimmicky, the cat-and-mouse game between captor and captive doesn't. It mostly overcomes genre contrivances since Finney's backstory as an under-confident pushover powers the narrative forward as he attempts to somehow gain an advantage on his abductor. With a handful of black balloons and a smiling mask inspired by Lon Chaney's character in London After Midnight, Ethan Hawke's all in as this deranged child murderer fronting as an amateur magician. It's hard not to draw comparisons to Pennnywise or a demented Willy Wonka, but Hawke makes this top-hatted madman his own and the last act delivers what's expected about as well as possible. 

All the ingredients were there for this to entirely break from convention and put more standard horror fare to shame, but that's just not what the source material is, earning the remainder of its points from Brett Jutkiewicz's cinematography and Patti Podesta's production design. Of Blumhouse's recent releases, The Black Phone stands as one of its more ambitious, doing enough to please devotees of Hill's short story and fans of the unquestionably talented Derrickson, whose best film is likely still ahead of him.