Weapons Review
Zach Cregger’s Weapons arrives with a wave of anticipation, thanks to the breakout success of his 2022 horror hit Barbarian. Billed as a horror-mystery told through multiple perspectives, the film blends supernatural unease, character drama, and a slow-burn descent into something far stranger than its opening premise suggests. With a stacked cast of icons including Josh Brolin, Julia Garner, Alden Ehrenreich, and Benedict Wong, it’s as much a showcase of performances as it is an exercise in mood.
And, while Weapons cements Cregger’s status as one of the most daring genre voices working today, it’s also a reminder that vision and execution don’t always walk in step. The result is a film with impressive highs—atmospheric sequences, bold visual style, and committed performances—tempered by pacing missteps, uneven narrative focus, and a second half that doesn’t quite fulfill the promise of its eerie setup.
A Promising Premise that Deviates from its Marketing
The film’s central hook—seventeen children vanishing from their homes at exactly 2:17 a.m. in the small town of Maybrook—is an immediately chilling concept. The teaser trailer capitalized on this moment, milking it for dread and mystery. Unfortunately, the actual opening scene (and oddly placed score) doesn’t quite live up to the same tension that we expected. Where the teaser felt sharp and haunting, the film’s introduction is surprisingly disarming, easing into the disappearance with less impact than it deserves.
It’s a small but notable stumble, especially for a story that relies on pulling the audience in early. Once the narrative gets moving, the intrigue builds, but that initial lack of urgency leaves a faint sense that Weapons is playing catch-up to its own best ideas.
A Cast That Elevates the Material
If there’s one area where Weapons never falters, it’s in its casting. Josh Brolin brings gravitas to the role of a grieving father, Julia Garner delivers a textured and emotionally guarded performance as a teacher haunted by the event, and Benedict Wong imbues his screen time with quiet menace.
Alden Ehrenreich, as Officer Paul Morgan, stands out as one of its biggest assets for his grounded approach and duality. However, some of these specific character threads feel more like narrative detours than essential pieces of the puzzle. These sections can slow momentum, especially when they don’t pay off in a meaningful way by the finale.
Structure, Pacing, and Familiar TERRITORY
One of Barbarian’s calling cards was its surprise point-of-view shifts, resetting the audience’s perspective midstream. Weapons uses a similar device, but here, it feels more recognizable—and therefore less startling—than before. While these switches are competently executed and occasionally deepen the mystery, they don’t have quite the same disruptive thrill.
The pacing follows a familiar Cregger rhythm: slow builds punctuated by sudden narrative pivots. It’s a structure that can be highly effective, but in Weapons, some of these shifts arrive at the cost of sustained tension. Combined with stretches of quieter, character-focused material that don’t always justify their length, the film occasionally drifts into filler territory.
A Second Half That Can't Match the First
Like Barbarian, Weapons peaks in intrigue during its first half. The slow unraveling of perspectives, the growing sense of dread, and the careful seeding of supernatural elements are genuinely gripping. Unfortunately, once the cards are on the table, the film loses some of its edge.
Visually, the second half remains strong—there are sequences of stark, unsettling beauty that showcase Cregger’s gift for mood. But narratively, the reveals don’t land with the same weight as the setup suggests. The character behind it all, while intriguing in concept, doesn’t resonate as effectively as intended. The result is a climax that feels more like a strong chapter in a bigger creative portfolio than a definitive statement piece.
Style, Atmosphere, and the Cregger Factor
There’s no denying that Cregger has a spectacular eye for composition. Weapons is filled with painterly frames, deliberate camera movements, and lighting that shifts between dreamlike and oppressive. The atmosphere is, for the most part, on point—haunting without resorting to cheap jolts. When it works, it’s mesmerizing; when it falters, it’s often due to moments that undercut tension with pacing lulls or narrative digressions.
Still, even with its flaws, Weapons feels like a significant step in Cregger’s evolution as a filmmaker. It’s more ambitious and expansive than Barbarian, even if it occasionally trips over its own scope. The film builds on the stylistic and structural hallmarks that put him on the map, while hinting at even bigger and bolder work to come.
Score: 6/5/10
Not every choice lands, but the film’s scale and atmosphere leave a mark—offering a flawed yet unmistakably bold addition to Zach Cregger’s oeuvre.
