The idea that one should never talk to strangers is an advisable lesson that parents often teach their children. What once served as useful instructions for kids to avoid being taken advantage of has likely been eliminated in adulthood because of the growing dependence on people and technology in society. In his horror genre debut, director Christian Tafdrup appropriately criticizes the concept of trusting strangers too quickly and effectively exposes inordinate civility to the point of self-destruction. Speak No Evil shows viewers the dangers of not speaking up about discomforts for the sake of politeness, and it’s horrifyingly twisted.
The movie follows a Danish family at the start of their holiday vacation in Tuscany. Bjørn (Morten Burian) and Louise (Sidsel Siem Koch), parents to young Agnes (Liva Forsberg), quickly become friends with a fellow traveling family from the Netherlands. Patrick (Fedja van Huêt) and Karin (Karina Smulders), parents to the quiet and curious Abel (Marius Damslev), take a strong liking towards them. Months later, they invite the Danish family to their countryside home, where the free-spirited Patrick and Karin let loose and unravel the madness to their peculiar ways. But when the Dutch family becomes too much for Bjørn and Louise to handle, they soon discover that excessive civility is not enough to escape the sinister plans that Patrick and Karin have for them.
Speak No Evil is what happens when small differences evolve to perpetual irritations after a people-pleasing man, Bjørn, takes his family to a countryside stay to visit new friends. Tafdrup takes a tremendously simple concept and decorates it with gratifying horror that will surely frighten viewers to no end. After setting up an atmosphere that welcomes serenity and comfort, Tafdrup, who teams up with his long-time collaborator and brother, Mads Tafdrup, masterfully ushers in feelings of annoyance and terror within the script. Speak No Evil effectively takes a turn for the weird and shocking, which makes for an entertaining watch.
The film is at its best when its characters use courteousness to explain away cultural differences and empathy to handle misunderstandings. This strategy to avoid confrontation and to rationalize away discomfort is so on the nose. It’s a tactic that humans often employ to get themselves out of sticky situations in which they do not mean to offend. It’s also why the Tafdrups’ script works so well since people find difficulty saying how they really feel. Even when they do, there’s a sense of claustrophobia that comes with saying the wrong words, and it’s exactly what makes Tafdrup’s feature plausible and wickedly disturbing.
To represent the growing uneasiness brought on when the Dutch and Danish families clash, Erik Molberg Hansen’s cinematography instills a curious yet dark ambiance that is sometimes hard to decipher. Frequent spotlights may draw a viewer’s eye to a certain direction, but these masterful diversions are intentional. That, with Sun Kølster’s campy yet unnerving score, is a recipe for a delightfully twisted film that is bound to upset viewers in more ways than one. Speak No Evil is incredibly smart and rightfully frustrating, but it is one of those films that will leave a lasting impression long after a first-time watch.
Christian Tafdrup knows exactly how to blur the lines of pleasantries and civil hostility in this unsettling horror feature. During the 2022 Sundance Film Festival, Tafdrup admitted that all he wanted to do was create a movie that would make audiences completely uncomfortable. Not only does he exceed expectations in providing that uneasiness, but Tafdrup doesn’t waste time spelling out anything for viewers. Instead, he relies on his incredible cast to take viewers on a stressful journey of growing tension even when politeness is at the forefront. This tale may be cruel and sadistic at heart, but there’s an old lesson to remember: never trust an unduly charming stranger.
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