Watching a horror film can’t help but set you on edge. Every bump, knock, strange glance or slammed door sends the heart racing into overdrive. And it’s something director James Watkins cleverly capitalises on from the moment this slow-burning, suspenseful and unique film begins.
At first, the premise doesn’t seem particularly horrific, as it starts with two families holidaying at a luxurious bed and breakfast nestled in the heart of a beautiful Italian town. Fun-loving and obnoxiously loud dad Paddy (James McAvoy) is away with his wife Clara (Aisling Franciosi) and son, Ant, who has a disability which makes him unable to talk.
Also holidaying there is former PR exec mum Louise (Mackenzie Davis) enjoying a getaway with her equally highly strung husband Ben (Scoot McNairy) and their incredibly anxious daughter, Agnes. The archetypes are clear-cut and instantly funny.
Despite their differences, Ben succeeds in befriending Paddy, much to the silent dismay of his wife. When they return home to dreary London, they receive an invite to join the fun-loving family at their countryside home in England. A second idyllic getaway – what could be better?
Well, what Louise and Ben likely imagined to be a stately home with a charming farm-to-table set up turns out to be more than rough around the edges. Paddy and Clara are disturbingly over-familiar, and little Agnes is made to sleep on the floor. Little by little, things start to get weird – without being ostensibly scary – right up until the film’s climax.
This is a masterclass of direction and Watkins plays with sound in a gloriously unsettling way. The suspense is aided by the fantastic performance of Ant (Dan Hough) who can’t utter a word and is forced to communicate in silent frustration.
Uncomfortable silences following Paddy dropping a clanger are stretched out, leaving the audience squirming and waiting for something, anything to erupt – a violent outburst, an uncouth family spat. Instead, for a while at least, we’re met with clinking forks, loud gulps of wine and glasses slammed on tables, doors slammed on hinges and shadows skulking behind stained glass.
James McAvoy proves once again that he’s mastered the art of embodying intrinsically unsettling characters with ease – flitting seamlessly being disarmingly charming and terrifyingly violent.
His size, sheer muscle and do-it-yourself attitude towards shooting and eating meals, repairing the farm and fixing flat tyres become all the more concerning as the film goes on.
Davis and McNairy also do a brilliant job at playing a quintessential middle-class couple, which works to elevate the uncanny nature of McAvoy and Franciosi’s dynamic while allowing the audience to relate.
It isn’t just the creeping sense of dread that he masterfully creates, Watkins does a brilliant job of finding humour in some of the film’s most twisted moments and creates a wildly entertaining push and pull between fear and hilarity.
By the end, Speak No Evil has the audience united in terror, anticipation and a bizarre overwhelming sense of giddy joy – the sort of joy that only really good horror can inspire when it hits all the beats perfectly. Thrilling, yes, but it’s also very funny and has its share of real cringe moments.
The tension at the heart of this decidedly British film is politeness – which prompted much of the knowing laughter from the audience. Despite some serious social no-no’s that would send most people running for the hill, these guests are forced to stay so they don’t offend their generous hosts. Politeness, it seems, can be fatal.
Speak No Evil is a wild ride filled with uncomfortable laughter, brilliant twists and hide-behind-your-hands violence which is both psychological and physical. This is horror at its unnerving, hilarious best.
