Knock at the Cabin (M, 100 minutes)
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
2 stars
Knock at the Cabin is like M. Night Shyamalan's version of one of those cheesy Christian apocalyptic movies that turn up from time to time, with stars who've signed up because they believe in the cause or simply need/want the money. For an example of each, think of Left Behind - the original with Kirk Cameron and the remake with Nicolas Cage respectively.
Although the budget here is bigger than such movies generally enjoy and the set-up is intriguing, this adaptation of Paul Tremblay's award-winning novel The Cabin at the End of the World doesn't really satisfy. The problems start with the title, which presumably is meant to intrigue but simply looks like it's missing the word "door".
The start is promising, a quiet conversation between young Wen (Kristen Cui) and large, soft-spoken Leonard (Dave Bautistsa) filmed with subtle menace. The little girl runs back to the cabin in the woods (a reminder of another, better horror movie) where she is having a holiday with her adoptive fathers, Eric (Jonathan Groff) and Andrew (Ben Aldridge).
Soon Leonard is knocking at the door with his companions Sabrina (Nikki Amuka-Bird), Adriane (Abby Quinn) and Redmond (Rupert Grint). Understandably, Eric and Andrew don't want to open the door but inevitably the group force their way inside.
There could be a number of reasons for their actions - robbery, homophobia, murder, cannibalism (remember, this is a horror movie, so anything is possible). But after tying up Eric and Andrew the quartet explain themselves. Like the Blues Brothers, they're on a mission from God - or at least they believe it's something like that.
They explain, ever so earnestly and fervently, that Eric, Andrew and Cui must make a choice - no one can make it for them and nobody else will do. Either one of them is killed as a sacrifice, and soon, or the world will be destroyed. And you thought religious doorknockers were merely annoying.
Turning on the cabin's TV reveals not only the customary Shyamalan cameo but also news reports of earthquakes, tidal waves and other disasters.
Could it all be coincidence and the interlopers are crazy, sadistic, or members of some sort of cult? They go to extremes but that, of course, says nothing about the truth of their beliefs. But what if what they're saying is true?
Shymalan's career has had its up and downs - after his big splash with The Sixth Sense (well done but far from original) he became known for supernatural films with twist endings, many of which seemed to be big buildups to nothing much - they might have been more successful as episodes of a Twilight Zone-style anthology series.
Here, Shyamalan rewrote an adaptation of Tremblay's book by Steve Desmond and Michael Sherman (who are writing the next Transformers movie). He or they have made some significant changes.
One of the things that might have appealed to the filmmaker about the project is that Tremblay's story is reminiscent of Signs, an earlier Shyamalan movie that also focused on one family during a period of global turmoil. While I found aspects of Signs - and other Shyamalan movies - to be a bit silly, the atmosphere and acting were often impressive. Some of all that - the good and the bad - applies here.
The dialogue at times is stilted (not uncommon in Shyamalan's work) but given what they have to work with the actors are quite good.
Bautista, another wrestler turned actor, combines politeness with insistence and a certain quite menace and Groff and Aldridge make a likeable couple with an appealing child in Cui. Grint doesn't have much to do but his role is a distinct departure from the Harry Potter movies and the other actors are fine.
One part of the film that really doesn't work is the inclusion of flashbacks. They're dotted throughout and don't advance the story or flesh out the characters, adding nothing but length.
In his films, including this one, Shyamalan appears to want to grapple with Big Ideas like God and faith but he's no Ingmar Bergman.