The Strangers: Chapter 1 (Trailer Review)

"Why are you doing this to us?" "Because you were home."

One of the most direct, clinically chilling exchanges in the history of cinematic horror emanated from Bryan Bertino's 2008 home-invasion thriller, The Strangers, one of the most underrated horror films I've ever seen in my twenty-five, horror-obsessed years of life, as well as the greatest slasher film of the past two decades bar none. With a bare-bones script, a pair of powerhouse lead performances, a trio of ingenious masks, a low-key score, and minimal lighting that seemed to emanate from only a limited supply of natural sources (street lamps, a fireplace fire, headlights, etc.), Bertino crafted an exciting, suspenseful, and ultimately gut-wrenching exercise in primal terror that placed the emphasis on blood-curdling tension in place of gallons of graphic bloodshed. Even the devastating, true-to-life conclusion kept the physical violence off-screen and the suffering of the victims at the forefront. To put it succinctly, The Strangers is a modern horror masterpiece that, somehow, less than half of Tomatometer-approved film critics appreciated (49%, to be exact).

Ten years later, Johannes Roberts, directing from a script co-written by Bertino, released a belated sequel subtitled Prey at Night (ha, "prey", get it?) that, while never remotely approaching the minimalist, heart-stopping brilliance of the first movie, managed to deliver as surprisingly satisfying leftovers to the original's four-star meal. 

When I first received word, courtesy of the horror-oriented website, Upcoming Horror Movies, that not only a remake, but a new trilogy of the Strangers franchise was going into production, directed by Renny Harlin (A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master) and scripted by Alan R. Cohen and Alan Freedland, I felt an indescribable sensation of "I'm all for it!" euphoria mixed with "what is the point of that?" skepticism. The original, as far as I'm concerned, is a near-perfect modern classic that wasn't, ahem, screaming for a retry, and the premise -- a young couple's car breaks down on the road and they're consequently forced to spend the night in an Airbnb, where a familiar trio of masked intruders have arrived to have a little harm-filled fun -- sounds as pitifully derivative as a 21st-century horror film can possibly sound. One of my first reservations, in fact, pertained to the very setting: didn't Dave Franco already explore the horrifying possibilities of Airbnbs with his shockingly powerful directorial debut, The Rental? 

The trailer for the initial installment in Harlin's trilogy, unremarkably titled, The Strangers: Chapter 1, hit YouTube early yesterday, Friday, March 1st, 2024, and I'm sorry to report, the finished product does not look particularly promising.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a firm believer that, in order to receive a fully developed, accurate opinion on a movie, you have to actually watch the movie, not just judge it by the look of the trailer. After all, it's impossible to get the full effect of the mechanics that go in to producing a motion picture -- screenplay, direction, acting, cinematography, editing, music, production & costume design -- just by looking at a two and a half-minute sneak preview that quickly edits together the most prominent elements (and probably throws in a few random bits as well).

However, this is just a quick summary of my thoughts on this complete first trailer, and to the extent that it holds any value, my expectations for this movie are regrettably low.

Right from the first scene, my ears were bombarded, not by the piercing screams of our soon-to-be-hunted protagonists or gunshots, but by an exchange of dialogue that comes across as cringe-inducing in its on-the-nose exposition. Driving through the beautiful, woodsy countryside of Venus, Oregon, Maya (Madelaine Petsch) asks her longtime boyfriend, Ryan (Froy Gutierrez), "Do you know what today is?" "Today is the third day of our three-day road trip across the country," answers Ryan. "Or our five-year anniversary," Maya promptly reminds him. Um... thanks for letting me know how many days this young couple has been on the road, and how many years they've been together?

Accentuating the peaceful, positive atmosphere is Cage The Elephant's "Trouble", which will play throughout the entirety of the trailer and take on a predictably more ominous undertone as we progress. 

"What a cool little town," remarks the excited Maya as she takes notice of a diner, hardware store, log truck, and an abundance of trees that communicate a serene small-town vibe. Arriving at their quiet, temporary abode, she discloses, perhaps ironically, "I actually like this so much better than a hotel." While cuddling up with Ryan on the sofa, she opines, "I'll bet the people who live here are really happy." Man, this girl seems to have a knack for verbalizing just about anything on her mind.

The tension seemingly commences once the attractive couple makes their way inside the local diner, where, in typical slasher movie form, they're greeted with an assortment of hostile stares from the townies, one of whom turns out to be none other than modern genre icon, Richard Brake, playing a sheriff. (Before this trailer, I had no idea Brake was even a member of the cast.) 

"Tough crowd, right?" says Ryan. Yeah, you don't know the half of it, buddy.

On their way either in or out of the diner, Ryan and Maya encounter a pair of preadolescent Mormon boys, sitting on their bikes and clothed in a white button-down shirt, clearly an homage to the Mormons from the original movie who discovered the bodies of Kristen and James, and unknowingly had a run-in with the killers themselves. In this version, the two boys just sit and stare ominously at the couple, making no response when Maya and Ryan offer a friendly "hi". Creepy for the protagonists, kind of cliched for the audience.

Later that night, Maya and Ryan sit outside their cabin, taking in the blissful silence and reveling in each other's privacy. "Do you hear that?" asks Maya. "Hear what?" "The Silence. It's nice." There she goes again, voicing her inner thoughts. Eh, maybe I would be the same way if I were spending the night in such a secluded environment, so who am I to judge?

With Maya sitting suggestively on the kitchen sink, the longtime lovers begin making out, probably bracing themselves for something more, when a loudly aggressive knock is made on the front door, startling them. Who the hell could be knocking on their door so late at night (or early in the morning)? Opening the door, all we can make out is the silhouette of a figure, looking as though they're wearing either a black beanie or morphsuit because their hair is entirely invisible. A feminine voice pops the familiar question: "Is Tamara here?" "No," replies Ryan. "I think you have the wrong home," adds Maya, with a friendly, sympathetic smile. Slowly, the figure moves out of sight.

Okay, there are already two problems evident with this movie's approach to the iconic first knock. For starters, in the original, we could partially discern the face of the female knocker played by Gemma Ward, who was blessed with a much deeper, sexier, more memorable voice than this actress (or the one from Prey at Night, for that matter). The porch light illuminated some of her features, while Peter Sova's atmospheric cinematography kept her face sufficiently shrouded in darkness, generating a much higher level of unease than a figure thoroughly saturated in black. It looks too artificial. Secondly, that line, so bizarrely random and unsettling the first time it was spoken in 2008, has become old hat in 2024. Especially since it was used in the 2018 sequel. This is the third time we're going to be hearing that exchange, and it doesn't seem as if the Alans have exactly provided their own take on it.

Carrying on with their night, Ryan puts away a case of beer and Maya puts on a soft, romantic record, much like Kristen did in the original. While taking a shower, Maya begins washing her hair, and once she steps away from the center of the frame, we see the reflection of a man in a sack watching her from behind the transparent shower door. Sorry, Renny, but the sight of the masked man standing behind Liv Tyler in the background, his white sack contrasting with the darkness, was a far more innovative and nerve-shredding image. The whole "watching a woman as they shower" bit has been done to death at this point. We know in a horror movie that when a woman is taking a shower, it's only a matter of time before something happens, whether it's a false alarm, a legitimate stalking, or, like in Alfred Hitchcock's standard-setter for shower scares, a full-blown homicide.

The point of no return arrives while Maya and Ryan are eating dinner. Devouring a simple fast-food meal of burgers and fries, a ketchup-like substance drips onto the fry box. "You are the messiest eater on the planet," Maya laughingly remarks. But then the drip reaches the napkins as well, raising their alarm. Looking up at the ceiling, they immediately realize someone has been inside their cabin when they see the carcass of a bird suspended above them. As Ryan rushes to lock the windows, Maya does the same for the front door, just as an axe smashes through, narrowly missing her face. They turn around and run to search for an escape, while the man in the mask pushes the door open and gives chase. Soon, Maya and Ryan realize the man pursuing them is partnered with two masked women, both of whom appear to have already been in the house.

From this point onward, the trailer dispenses a quick-cut succession of standard cabin-the-woods horror shots, including a kitchen knife being dragged across a countertop, a motorcycle bursting into flames as Maya and Ryan dash toward it, the power going out, Maya being chased through the foggy woods, a truck ramming into the side of their car as they attempt to drive away, and Maya shining a flashlight into the face of one of the female psychopaths. The only moderately interesting shot amid the familiarity is one of the women resting her head romantically against the male leader's chest, revealing a new dimension to the relationship between the titular intruders that wasn't explored in either of Bertino's screenplays.

In the final scene, Harlin redirects the gut-wrenching climax of the original. Maya and Ryan are bound to a chair beside each other, and standing motionlessly before them are all three masked sadists, side by side. "Why are you doing this to us?" Maya asks tearfully. One of the women leans forward and heartlessly answers, "Because you're here." Yes, you read that correctly: "you were home" has been altered to "you're here". Ooh, what a remarkable deviation from the standard line. How long did it take the Alans to come up with that one? And as for Petsch's decidedly louder, more hysterical delivery of the fundamental question originated by Tyler, she just doesn't quite seem capable of capturing the resigned, whispery poignancy of her predecessor.

Despite the familiar setup of the climax, there is a significant difference between this film's conclusion and Bertino's: the female protagonist in this story gets to survive. How do I already know that? Because Harlin has made the baffling miscalculation of divulging that Madelaine Petsch is going to star in all three installments of the rebooted trilogy. One of the things that made the original Strangers so unforgettably harrowing was that, despite the determined efforts of the vulnerable, easy-to-root-for protagonists, the forces of evil overtook them, just as they most likely would have in real life. Much like the real-life victims of the Manson family in the summer of 1969, one of the sources from which Bertino drew inspiration while crafting his screenplay, Kristen McKay and James Hoyt were two young, innocent human beings who loved each other and did nothing to deserve the torment inflicted upon them. However, that innocence and love did absolutely nothing to save them or deter their killers. By revealing that at least one half of the couple at the center of The Strangers: Chapter 1 is going to live to see the following two sequels, Harlin has prematurely diminished the suspense of not only his introductory chapter, but his middle one to boot.

And then there's that final shot in the trailer, in which Ryan aims a shotgun straight at the face of one of the female assailants, but similar to Lewis Pullman's character in Prey at Night, he inexplicably refuses to actually pull the trigger. The woman lets out a deranged scream and shakes her head, possibly defying Ryan to shoot her. However, this could obviously be an example of typical trailer editing distortion. 

There is certainly hope for The Strangers: Chapter 1 to subvert my expectations and offer some novel twists to counteract the borrowed ingredients from Bryan Bertino's original thriller. Maybe Richard Brake will reveal himself to be the man beneath the sack in this version. After all, Brake has become a go-to for horror villains lately ever since he delivered his scene-stealing supporting performance as Doom-Head in Rob Zombie's 31. It's practically inconceivable that his involvement in this film is going to be inconsequential. Maybe Maya will not only survive her ordeal, which is unfortunately a given, but also manage to turn the tables on one or two of the masked lunatics, giving the audience a sense of catharsis that Bertino refused to offer in his uncompromising take. 

At the end of the day, The Strangers: Chapter 1 is its own individual motion picture like any other, and therefore deserves to be critiqued on its own merits. A fully rounded analysis cannot be conceived until the finished product is released and viewed in its entirety. Judging by this first trailer, on the other hand, what with its pedestrian setup, stilted dialogue, and apparent shortage of original ideas, the result does not exactly imbue one with overwhelming confidence that this is going to be anything more than another unnecessary, uninspired carbon copy of an extraordinarily underrated masterpiece.

Catch The Strangers: Chapter 1 in theaters May 17th, and in the meantime, check out the trailer below.