Zach Cregger’s Weapons taps into the same suburban fear that gave his 2022 surprise hit, Barbarian, staying power. What’s more, while Weapons includes a similarly rewarding and refreshing twist, the film doesn’t depend on it. Instead, it uses it to create a tonal anomaly of a flick that — at least for now — solidifies the former Whitest Kids U’ Know member as a must-watch horror director on the level of Jordan Peele and Ari Aster.

At 2:17 a.m. in the middle of a week, 17 third-grade classmates mysteriously vanish, save Alex (Cary Christopher). Their teacher, Justine (Julia Garner, The Fantastic Four: First Steps), shoulders the blame as the town demands a culprit. Archer (Josh Brolin, No Country for Old Men), the father of one of the missing kids, begins his own investigation of the disappearances while school principal Marcus (Benedict Wong, Doctor Strange) struggles to quell the town’s spiraling rage.

Like Barbarian, Cregger opts for a split narrative across six characters. While this helps Weapons comfortably outpace its two-hour runtime, it does feel somewhat needlessly inflated and could’ve benefited from a narrower focus. That said, it doesn’t significantly detract from the film; it just causes it to tread water for a decent chunk of the third act.

Minor criticisms aside, Weapons shines with exceptional cinematography, snappy dialogue and an expectation-subverting meld of heartwarming storytelling and unflinching brutality. Multiple tracking shots cleverly capture the self-destructive drinking and “eating” habits of three prominent characters. (This aspect of the film culminates with an especially wild scene that feels like it borrows from 2000’s Snow Day as much as it does 1980’s Cannibal Holocaust.)

While the film’s central figures feel a bit one-note, they’re leveraged by excellent performances from Garner, Brolin and a returning Amy Madigan (Uncle Buck). And while Austin Abrams’ (Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark) character is ultimately overexposed, his future collaboration leading Cregger’s Resident Evil movie carries a lot of promise.

Ultimately, Weapons earns most of its resonance through its unexpected accessibility. No, this isn’t a kids’ movie. Yet it borrows enough elements from early 1990s films like The Witches and Ernest Scared Stupid that it feels comfortably nostalgic despite its originality. Declaring it an instant classic feels like an overstep, but its undeniable charm paired with its grotesque violence could give it the legs to be timeless. And maybe it will be.

In a year already stacked with heavy-hitting horror movies, Weapons rises to the top of the pack. While it might not be technically “better” than Ryan Coogler’s Sinners, it operates on a different, largely incomparable level. In the end, Weapons is a crowd-pleasing flick that reminds us we should spend less time placing films on hierarchies and more time celebrating them.

See Weapons in a theater, and be sure to order seven hotdogs and a couple cookies. It’ll be more immersive than any RealD Cinema ever could be. —Daniel Bokemper

Get it at Amazon.

When her sister mysteriously disappears, Clover (Ella Rubin, Fear Street: Prom Queen) and four Gen Z pals retrace her last known steps to a quaint empty inn in a remote small town of Glore Valley. Seeing as how the inn is chockablock with flyers for missing people of all ages, races, colors and creeds, you know things don’t bode well for them. 

Sure enough, 27 minutes into the movie, all five are murdered. Then suddenly, they’re all alive again, finding themselves trapped in a Groundhog Day-style situation, but dispatched in different ways by different threats each go-round. Like Happy Death Day, the key to survival is figuring out how to break that loop. Bet the freaky hourglass clock on the wall stands as a Big Clue.

Based on a PlayStation game I’d not heard of, Until Dawn turns up with a nifty premise, allowing director David F. Sandberg (2016’s Lights Out) to tinker among several horror genres — slashers, witches, zombies, clowns, etc. — one night at a time. Still, even with each switcheroo presenting new situations (“Is anyone else growing new teeth?”), tiring repetition can’t help but set in. 

Ultimately, Until Dawn wastes its invention on underwritten, unlikable characters, as you’d expect people named Clover would be. (How are the others not named, like, Chakra, Journey, Justice and Inclusion?) That may explain my enthusiasm for something of its midpoint breather, in which — spoiler alert! — coughing leads to exploding. 

It’s not enough. Until Dawn is high-sheen corporate synergy studio horror as aimless as it is needless. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.