Never Let Go

  Never Let Go is a solid post-apocalyptic horror film from the very reliable French genre craftsman Alexandre Aja. It looked a little too similar to any number of recent offerings, but thankfully it's got a little more on its mind than trying to be the next A Quiet Place.

 Momma (Halle Berry - that's her character's name in the credits) lives alone with her two children at a cabin in the woods. She insists the world outside has been taken over by an inchoate, shape-shifting, mind-affecting Evil, and that. The three of them are the last human beings on earth, and the Evil hungers for them.

 Whether this is a highly allegorical delusion or not is basically fuels the whole movie. Her sons - Sam (Anthony B. Jenkins), the eldest, is dutiful and responsible, while Nolan (Percy Daggs IV) is a little more rambunctious and questioning of her mother's... well, patently batshit insane worldview. Then again, this is a horror movie.

 The invading Evil manifests in ghosts that only Momma can see, taking on the shape of ghosts from her past: her mom, her husband (whom, we soon learn, she both killed when she discovered they had been taken over by The Evil). I like that it's made explicit that they won't show themselves to her children to drive a wedge of incredulity between them. In any case, a single touch from The Evil is all that's needed for it to be able to possess you thoroughly. 

 The only protection is the house itself, which The Evil can't breach. What's more, this protection can be extended via ropes tied to a post in the attic; As long as Momma and the children are tethered to them, The Evil can't touch them as they go outside to hunt and forage for food. Momma's developed a sort of quasi-religious series of rituals centered around the house, an easy analog for traditionalism and belief.

 It all fits in very nicely with the recent streak of horror movies that have rules that seem like something straight out of children's games.

 After a particularly brutal winter (which drains the family food reserves in a rather lovely montage), tensions come to a head between Momma and Nolan. There's a pretty fun development that sends the third act in a slightly different direction than I expected, but all in all it's a really simple survival-focused story with a possibly supernatural, blatantly allegorical edge.

 As a genre film, it's a bit of a mixed bag. I lean positive, because it's got some excellent, very tense scenes, a commendable sense of cruelty, and a solid throughline. It's full of little vignettes like an anecdote Momma tells about finding a wounded hiker and forcing herself to watch as she slowly died as a sort of test of faith (everyone but her family is possessed in her worldview); Fucking hell that's grim. But... I'd be lying if I didn't say I found the script (by KC Coughlin and Ryan Grassby) frustrating.
 Its ideas seem are fairly derivative, and the refusal to commit to any given interpretation (depending on how reliable you deem the camera's point of view to be) is not very satisfying; Ambiguity needs to give us a lot more to chew on to not feel like a cop out - and however you chose to interpret the events here, there's simply not a lot to either choice. That one of the final shots of the film is yet another flip-flop kind of soured me on it (as always, movies that end on a bum note have it harder than worse films that manage to stick the landing).
 Also funny: The Evil is heavily snake-people-inspired. Dear reader, snake people! David Icke was right all along!

 But for all its flaws, I do think most of the movie is good. Slow, but enthralling. Aja obviously knows his way around an intense horror scene, and his unfussy but stately direction (which includes novelistic chapter headings) adds a lot to the proceeds. Cinematographer Maxime Alexandre, meanwhile, gives the moss-shrouded British Columbia woods a downbeat, sometimes otherworldly feel, and the effects are decent. The acting is a highlight: Halle Berry is fierce and, to be honest, fucking scary in a sort of Carrie's mom deluded fundamentalist way, and the two kids - who are convincingly, heartbreakingly tiny - are terrific; The film gets an enormous, if exploitative jolt of energy by putting them up against starvation, Momma's 'teachings' and more metaphysical dangers.

 Both critics and audiences were less than kind, and the film remains a box-office bomb with a slightly tepid reputation. I get it, I really do. This isn't one of those cases where I feel the need to champion a maligned masterpiece or anything like that. Apparently they already had a prequel and a sequel developed in the works, and that's the sort of empire building I really can't get behind.
 Flawed as it is, though, it's still a cool little survival story with some good, jagged horror shrapnel deeply embedded on its lean meat.