Following the breakout success of Barbarian, writer / director Zach Cregger returns with a more ambitious, more fractured, and far more disturbing vision. Weapons is a kaleidoscopic descent into grief, rage, and the cyclical numbness of American tragedy, told through a town unravelling in the wake of unspeakable violence. It’s a film that doesn’t just want to scare you – it wants to haunt you.
The film unfolds in chapters (Justine, Archer, Paul, Marcus, James and Alex) each offering a different perspective on the same horrifying event. At the centre is Alex, a bullied elementary school kid, whose quiet suffering appears to take on a metaphor for something truly dark. The narrative spirals outward from him, capturing the ripple effects on a community already fractured by addiction, dysfunction and denial. The story is nonlinear, disorienting and purposefully opaque, but the emotional through line is unmistakable: something terrible has happened … and everyone is complicit in ignoring the signs.
The ensemble cast is uniformly excellent, but Julia Garner, as teacher Justine, stands out with a performance that’s raw, unpredictable and magnetic. It’s her summer at the box office, and Weapons proves she’s not just riding a wave, she’s steering it. Each actor brings a lived-in weariness to their role: Paul (Alden Ehrenreich) and James (Austin Abrams), both addicts, are twitchy and volatile; Justine, with her DUIs and disciplinary record, is brittle and defensive. Josh Brolin’s Archer keeps making mistakes at work and is only too happy to raise his voice and demand answers. Cary Christopher’s Alex is vulnerable but trying to be brave whilst Scarlett Sher’s voiceover adds a creepy edge to proceedings.
Cregger’s visual language is deeply unsettling. He’s clearly inspired by The Shining, dark corridors, disoriented angles, and creeping dread, but he’s also developed his own signature style. The camera often swings wildly, pulls back, then inches forward, keeping viewers perpetually off-balance. There’s a masterful use of negative space: you know something awful is just out of frame, lurking in the shadows. One standout moment mirrors Barbarian as Justine scans her street with an over-the-shoulder shot, leaving you to feel terrified and off kilter from the offset.
The soundscape is a character in itself. A low hum permeates the film, vibrating with unease. At times, the silence is so profound you can hear your own pulse. This auditory minimalism amplifies the horror: when the violence comes, it’s deafening. The score acts as an embodiment of grief, dread and the eerie calm before the storm.
Weapons is rich with metaphor. Gladys (Amy Madigan), a spectacularly Lynchian figure who arrives in bright, warm clothes before decaying into a grey, balding husk, is a manifestation of grief-fuelled rage. Her chilling line, “I can make them hurt each other. I can make them eat each other if I choose”, isn’t just supernatural menace; it’s a reflection of how trauma metastasises in communities. The triangle motif and the bell marked with a 6 subtly nod to the six chapters, suggesting a ritualistic structure to the chaos.
The shadow of a gun appears twice: once from Alex’s ceiling fan, once in the clouds above his house, visual cues that violence is omnipresent, even when unspoken. The children leaving their homes at 2:17 a.m. ties directly to the police code for assault with intent to murder, and the 217 votes that passed the Assault Weapons Ban in 2022. Cregger has left nothing to coincidence.
The film doesn’t rely on jump scares. Cregger’s horror is psychological, atmospheric and deeply human. The violence, when it erupts, is brutal but never gratuitous. It’s the emotional violence (the disbelief of parents, the bullying, the quiet suffering) that lingers. The town is literally mad with grief and the film captures that descent with terrifying clarity. Gladys literally sprints and screams through mundane domestic scenes, cutting grass, eating breakfast, only for life to resume moments later. It’s a chilling metaphor for the “shock, thoughts and prayers, then back to normality” cycle of school shootings. The film doesn’t offer easy answers, but it does offer a mirror. And what it reflects is horrifying.
Zach Cregger has cemented himself as one of the most exciting voices in horror. Weapons is a bold, unflinching film that refuses to comfort. It’s brilliantly paced, thematically rich and emotionally devastating. If Barbarian was a surprise hit, Weapons is a statement. Cregger has plenty to say and he’s not afraid to say it in the darkest, most daring ways possible.
Weapons is in UK cinemas now.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpThntO9ixc
Editor at Moviescramble. European cinema, grisly thrillers and show stopping musicals are my bag. Classic Hollywood Cinema is comfort food. Spare time is heavily dependent on a lot of pizza and power ballads.
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