'Abigail' review: Savage crowdpleaser boasts a ballerina vampire
At the first look at Abigail, horror fans had plenty of reason to salivate in bloodthirsty anticipation. Directors Tyler Gillett and Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, part of the filmmaking team known as Radio Silence, are responsible for infusing the genre with plenty of fresh blood over the past few years, thanks to 2019's Ready or Not and the reinvigorated Scream franchise. Then you've got a slew of modern horror notables attached, like Lisa Frankenstein's Kathryn Newton, Scream and Scream VI's Melissa Barrera, as well as Dan Stevens, who went from being dreamy cousin Matthew on Downton Abbey to king of the creeps in flicks like The Guest, Apostle, and the upcoming Cuckoo.
This information is enough to have horror lovers seated before the trailer even reveals the hook: ballerina vampire. Tween vampire ballerina!
Drawing from a long history of vampire cinema, Abigail unveils a fresh tale of predator and prey, and it's pretty damn fun. Alisha Weir, the 14-year-old Irish actress who recently headlined Matilda: The Musical, stars as the eponymous Abigail. Sure, at first glance, she looks like a sweet little girl who loves the color pink, glittery sneakers, and Swan Lake. But when a band of kidnappers snatch her up and cart her away to a strange mansion, they soon discover they bit off way more than they can chew.
Abigail plays like a sister film to Ready or Not.
After making solid genre inroads over the years, Gillett and Bettinelli-Olpin broke out with the horror-comedy Ready or Not, which stars Samara Weaving as a new bride who's thrust into a deadly game of hide-and-seek within her wicked new in-laws' mansion. Abigail, which was written by Stephen Shields (The Hole in the Ground) and Guy Busick (who also co-wrote Ready or Not, Scream, and Scream VI) employs a similar framework to solid effect.
Here's another charismatic yet morally gray (to outright blackhearted) ensemble, trapped in a mansion filled with extravagant signs of old money and a deadly supernatural threat hanging over their heads like a guillotine blade. There'll even be a white gown covered in blood by the third act! This time, however, the tables are turned. It's not a viciously greedy family ganging up on one unsuspecting 12-year-old girl. It's a motley crew of crooks who are up against a mythic monster in a tutu — though you still may be rooting for the one in white.
Dan Stevens vs. Alisha Weir is why weirdos go to the movies.
As was the case in Ready or Not, the characters in this blood-soaked dark comedy range from quirky to absolutely bonkers. Their heinous "babysitting" job begins with surly Lambert (Giancarlo Esposito) laying out the rules of engagement, and giving this crew of strangers code names inspired by the Rat Pack, so they can keep their personal biz to themselves. But waiting for ransom to come in is boring, and getting-to-know-you games reveal delicious details. Even without them, this cast sinks their teeth into the wickedly fun tone.
An all-business former Marine called Rickles (Will Catlett) delivers snarled one-liners with ruthless efficiency. Stoned getaway driver Dean (the late Angus Cloud) is a bumbling fool, whose dopiness scores some laughs before a brutal offscreen end. With a spattering of purposefully tacky tattoos and a Hot Topic punk aesthetic, Sammy (Newton) is almost jarringly plucky in the face of doom, whereas muscle-bound enforcer Peter (Kevin Durand) has winsome himbo vibes. Playing pack mother, Joey (Barrera) gets less opportunity for punchlines, more often offering comforting guidance when she's not alluding to her tearful backstory. To her, Frank (Stevens) is a sharp and welcome contrast.
Where everyone else is happy to hang out as they wait for a ransom, Frank is always on the prowl for an angle. His caustic Queens accent spits disdain as his crooked smile implies a threat. Since leaving Downton Abbey, Stevens has enjoyed the freedom to steadily forge himself as a maestro of movie mayhem. It's a pleasure to watch him be a total bastard as it gives a vicarious thrill, but it also has audiences anticipating that this cad's comeuppance will be wildly gruesome to behold!
When it comes time to face Abigail in all her fangs-out glory, everyone has their chance to dance with her (sometimes literally). A charged glee runs through scenes in which a petite girl ambushes grown, armed, and even beefy adults. But it's Stevens who is her pitch-perfect partner. With that glint in his eye, his intensity matches Weir's, who shifts nimbly from a pose of terrified tween to rampaging beast to monologuing super(natural)villain.
Leaping from vulnerable to vicious with alarming ease, Weir delivers a performance that ranks with the likes of Linda Blair in The Exorcist, Isabelle Fuhrman in Orphan, and Patty McCormack in The Bad Seed. From the moment Weir bears her fangs, her Abigail is iconic, and an angel-faced Death. By the time she's changed costumes for a glammed-up rampage, she's reached M3GAN levels of modern horror glory. Every second she is on-screen is sensational.
Abigail reveals Radio Silence's limitations.
Abigail offers a generous spray of guts-strewn spectacle, including some bloody pyrotechnics reminiscent of Ready or Not's grand finale. Appreciators of gore or pitch-black comedy are sure to cackle in appreciation, but Abigail is at its very best when the practical effects play into the actors' performances.
Weir leaping onto the necks of her towering captors is surprising fun. However, when she leads one of them in a demented dance number, there's a deeply twisted thrill that gets better with every turn. Yet the setting of her dance partner's performance makes this big moment feel squashed, the spontaneity contained. Another pivotal moment in the climax feels cluttered in its staging. Its coverage is coherent but cinematically unremarkable, not living up the flare of its undead inspiration. While such sequences are no doubt exciting in their outrageousness, they lack the grandeur that should indicate some growth since Ready or Not. Instead, Abigail feels at times like a step back, veering into the overindulgent and unfocused, including a finale that — while full of blood and battle — feels undeniably bloated.
Part of the problem perhaps is that Abigail is not the movie that marketing promises, in an unexpected way. Is it about a ballerina vampire? Absolutely. However, in the film that revelation is a twist that isn't revealed for the first 30 minutes or so — well into its one hour, 49-minute runtime. While the prolonged first act allows the filmmakers to develop the atmosphere and introduce their chaotic human characters, it also demands a lot of patience from an audience that know what the plot will be. Curiously, this movie is cut assuming those in the theater haven't seen the film's trailer or even its poster, so the movie drags as we wait for the silly humans to catch up. Actually, much like the American Godzilla movies, this monster movie spends too much time on its human dramas — specifically that of its heroine.
Barrera's Joey feels like an echo of Scream V's Sam, who loathes violence but must embrace it to survive — yet another steely mother figure who's haunted by her past yet determined to protect a child from her dangerous present. While Abigail gives Barrera more to play than haunted, her performance is still achingly flat. The screenplay gives Joey a cliched backstory meant to easily win audience sympathy, but making a character morally good doesn't make them compelling. As more and more scenes circle back to Joey's life outside the house, the focus on Abigail, vampires, and fun is lost.
However, despite the sentimental detours, stodgy staging, and indulgent pacing, Abigail is a blast. It's exactly the kind of gonzo, gory, goofy crowdpleaser you'd hope for considering its very well-promoted premise. Still, I wish it moved as fast and ferociously as its terrorizing tiny dancer.