The Babysitter
I liked it very much precisely because it does not try to seem more serious than it is. It is nonsense, yes, but nonsense with rhythm, bite, blood, teenage energy and a very clear idea of the fun it wants to offer. I laughed quite a lot, and in a horror comedy that already says plenty. It does not try to be truly scary or build a great psychological story: it wants to be mischievous, fast, exaggerated and shameless. And within that game, it works very well.
The best thing is that it embraces the absurd without apologizing. An insecure boy, an apparently perfect babysitter, a night that begins as a teenage fantasy and ends up becoming a festival of pop satanism, absurd murders and domestic survival. The film knows its premise is ridiculous and squeezes it with pleasure. It does not remain a cold tribute to slashers or an empty parody; it has its own joy, as if it truly enjoyed dirtying a youthful fantasy with blood, screams and black humor.
Samara Weaving is essential for everything to work. She has charisma, presence, beauty, danger and a playful edge that makes her character charming even when the film reveals what she is hiding. That mixture of ideal babysitter, satanic villain and adolescent object of desire could have been very flat, but she gives it a special energy. You completely understand why the protagonist adores her, trusts her and struggles to accept the nightmare he has fallen into.
I also really liked the protagonist, because the film does not mock him cruelly. He is a frightened, awkward, protected boy, at that age when you still depend on adults but begin to need to prove something to yourself. All the chaos of the night works as a kind of brutal and absurd rite of passage. It is not a deep story about growing up, of course, but it uses that idea very well: to survive, he has to stop being only the scared child everyone controls.
The tone is what sustains it most. McG shoots everything with almost music-video speed, with colors, visual punches, big lines, music, excess and a total lack of shame that here adds more than it subtracts. In another film it could be unbearable, but in this one it fits the youthful and deranged spirit of the whole. There is no elegance, but there is pulse. There is no subtlety, but there is energy. And sometimes, for a film like this, that is worth much more than correctness.
The supporting group also helps because they work as conscious caricatures. Each one has a gag, an exaggerated personality and a moment to shine. The film uses them almost like figures from a teenage nightmare: the muscle guy, the explosive girl, the smiling psychopath, the friend who should not be there. They are not deep characters, but they do not need to be. They are pieces in a comic and bloody machine that seeks the quick blow, the absurd death and the funny reaction.
I understand that some people may see it as trash or feel that it does not work either as horror or as comedy. It depends a lot on entering its frequency. If you ask it for real fear, coherence, sustained tension or complex characters, it collapses immediately. But I did not ask it for that. I saw it as a self-aware prank, a sofa movie made to laugh at its idiocy, exaggerations and way of turning a childhood fantasy into a pop slaughterhouse.
It also has something many horror comedies never achieve: it does not seem to ask you to admire it, but to get in the car and accept the ride. It is ridiculous, but in a likeable way. It is bloody, but not unpleasant. It is silly, but not dead. And that difference matters a lot. There are silly films that bore because they have no energy; this one at least moves forward, invents problems, plays with its characters and seems to have fun while destroying them.
It is not perfect, of course. Some jokes are too obvious, some visual excesses have not aged perfectly, and there are moments when the film seems more concerned with looking cool than with landing a scene better. But even those flaws are part of its personality. I prefer a film like this, over the top and eager to entertain, to so many polished, correct horror comedies with no blood in their veins.
In the end, it seems to me a very enjoyable surprise. A small youthful, satanic and absurd burst of mayhem that made me laugh quite a lot and understands that horror can also be play, desire, teenage embarrassment and a celebration of chaos. I would not defend it as a great film, but I would defend it as a very well-handled piece of nonsense, with a magnetic lead and contagious energy. One of those films that perhaps should not work so well, but does because it has nerve, rhythm and a simple idea: turning a babysitting night into a bloody party.
The best thing is that it embraces the absurd without apologizing. An insecure boy, an apparently perfect babysitter, a night that begins as a teenage fantasy and ends up becoming a festival of pop satanism, absurd murders and domestic survival. The film knows its premise is ridiculous and squeezes it with pleasure. It does not remain a cold tribute to slashers or an empty parody; it has its own joy, as if it truly enjoyed dirtying a youthful fantasy with blood, screams and black humor.
Samara Weaving is essential for everything to work. She has charisma, presence, beauty, danger and a playful edge that makes her character charming even when the film reveals what she is hiding. That mixture of ideal babysitter, satanic villain and adolescent object of desire could have been very flat, but she gives it a special energy. You completely understand why the protagonist adores her, trusts her and struggles to accept the nightmare he has fallen into.
I also really liked the protagonist, because the film does not mock him cruelly. He is a frightened, awkward, protected boy, at that age when you still depend on adults but begin to need to prove something to yourself. All the chaos of the night works as a kind of brutal and absurd rite of passage. It is not a deep story about growing up, of course, but it uses that idea very well: to survive, he has to stop being only the scared child everyone controls.
The tone is what sustains it most. McG shoots everything with almost music-video speed, with colors, visual punches, big lines, music, excess and a total lack of shame that here adds more than it subtracts. In another film it could be unbearable, but in this one it fits the youthful and deranged spirit of the whole. There is no elegance, but there is pulse. There is no subtlety, but there is energy. And sometimes, for a film like this, that is worth much more than correctness.
The supporting group also helps because they work as conscious caricatures. Each one has a gag, an exaggerated personality and a moment to shine. The film uses them almost like figures from a teenage nightmare: the muscle guy, the explosive girl, the smiling psychopath, the friend who should not be there. They are not deep characters, but they do not need to be. They are pieces in a comic and bloody machine that seeks the quick blow, the absurd death and the funny reaction.
I understand that some people may see it as trash or feel that it does not work either as horror or as comedy. It depends a lot on entering its frequency. If you ask it for real fear, coherence, sustained tension or complex characters, it collapses immediately. But I did not ask it for that. I saw it as a self-aware prank, a sofa movie made to laugh at its idiocy, exaggerations and way of turning a childhood fantasy into a pop slaughterhouse.
It also has something many horror comedies never achieve: it does not seem to ask you to admire it, but to get in the car and accept the ride. It is ridiculous, but in a likeable way. It is bloody, but not unpleasant. It is silly, but not dead. And that difference matters a lot. There are silly films that bore because they have no energy; this one at least moves forward, invents problems, plays with its characters and seems to have fun while destroying them.
It is not perfect, of course. Some jokes are too obvious, some visual excesses have not aged perfectly, and there are moments when the film seems more concerned with looking cool than with landing a scene better. But even those flaws are part of its personality. I prefer a film like this, over the top and eager to entertain, to so many polished, correct horror comedies with no blood in their veins.
In the end, it seems to me a very enjoyable surprise. A small youthful, satanic and absurd burst of mayhem that made me laugh quite a lot and understands that horror can also be play, desire, teenage embarrassment and a celebration of chaos. I would not defend it as a great film, but I would defend it as a very well-handled piece of nonsense, with a magnetic lead and contagious energy. One of those films that perhaps should not work so well, but does because it has nerve, rhythm and a simple idea: turning a babysitting night into a bloody party.
Mini Review: I liked it very much precisely because it does not try to seem more serious than it is. It is nonsense, yes, but nonsense with rhythm, bite, blood, teenage energy and a very clear idea of the fun it wants to offer. I laughed quite a lot, and in a horror comedy that already says plenty. It does not try to be truly scary or build a great psychological story: it wants to be mischievous, fast, exaggerated and shameless. And within that game, it...
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