Balancing acts in the multifaceted mystery of “Weapons”

In our “Cinemails” column, two writers exchange viewing notes on a recent theatrical or streaming experience and/or dig into something more broadly philosophical about the movies.

Summer movie season at the cinemas is fraught with predictability in our present time. Flagship franchises claw their way back for an insipid revival or purportedly one last hurrah. Inherently, they offer diminishing returns and the fleeting prospect of shared nostalgia for two-plus hours.

So it’s refreshing to see a film with an original premise take root in the collective cultural consciousness, and flourish commercially. The ever-expanding horror genre has become the one niche, or now inclusive space, where studios are willing to gamble. It has resulted in interesting stylistic fusions like Ryan Coogler’s Sinners from this past April. Though a far cry from that film’s setting, it’s still safe to similarly categorize Weapons, the sophomore feature by Zach Cregger, which opened commercially on August 8. It continues to dominate screens in the greater Madison area—at Flix Brewhouse, Marcus Point, Marcus Palace (in Sun Prairie), and AMC Fitchburg 18.

While straightforwardly marketed as a horror mystery by distributor Warner Bros., Weapons‘ nonlinear narrative structure allows the film to take character-driven detours into the relatably mundane corners of the daily lives of residents in the fictitious suburban sprawl of Maybrook in McCarren County, Pennsylvania. (From the desk of a native Pennsylvanian, the location-shooting looks spot on, and heightens the experience.) The film skips between tones as it cuts to different perspectives in the tradition of Doug Liman’s Go or Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia (both 1999).

Maybrook third-grade teacher Justine Gandy (Julia Garner), construction contractor Archer Graff (Josh Brolin), amateur cop Paul Morgan (Alden Ehrenreich), unhoused addict James (Austin Abrams), Maybrook principal Marcus Miller (Benedict Wong), and Gandy’s student Alex Lilly (Cary Christopher) each play a role in tracing Weapons‘ sequence of events. The plot spirals and oscillates between the days leading up to and following the confounding mass disappearance of nearly every student in Gandy’s elementary-school class, 17 children who ran away from their homes in the dead of night at precisely 2:17 a.m. (Are we surprised theaters have not offered, at the very least, 2:17 p.m. show times?)

Cregger’s background as one of the founders of the late-aughts sketch-comedy troupe, The Whitest Kids U’ Know, has surely influenced the approach to rendering the intersecting scenes in Weapons, which illustrate how direction of the camera can alter meaning and even tone. It’s distinctively imitative of indie filmmaking in the second half of the 1990s, a device stemming from the phenomenon of Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction (1994); and it’s perhaps one that younger Zoomer audiences are latching onto, just as Gen-Xers did 30 years ago, if this film’s critical and financial success are the indicators. Weapons is also in a somewhat curious dialogue with last year’s breakaway success, Longlegs, in how it’s built and riffing on the cinematic language of that same bygone era.

Even more curiously, the aforementioned is a film that our writers Edwanike Harbour and Jason Fuhrman expounded upon last summer; Harbour and Fuhrman both return to engage with Weapons here. In their back-and-forth, the writers notably define themselves as moviegoers who don’t typically seek out films marketed as horror (and even express an aversion to it)—a point that is further echoed in local film programmer and writer James Kreul’s recent review on his Substack. Perhaps that speaks to the power of a premise and word of mouth: offer audiences something new, even if there’s some reservation built into the perceived mood and subject matter, and their attention will be piqued enough to turn out. We hope this latest “Cinemail” provides some thoughtful engagement with Weapons‘ thematic intrigue, network of characters, and blend of horror and comedy (with other 2025 examples). —Grant Phipps, Film Editor

Editor’s note: The following conversation contains moderate spoilers.

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Edwanike Harbour to Jason Fuhrman

subject: hitting its target?

Coming off his debut with Barbarian (2022), Zach Cregger showed a lot of promise as a horror director. That film’s critical praise and word-of-mouth buzz (literally, everyone just told me to see it without looking it up) had a lot of people invested in this experience. I have only recently dipped my toe into what some may refer to as “elevated horror.” After peering at my phone from a distance to watch the trailer for Weapons and realizing its director was Cregger, I decided I would once again prepare myself for a sleepless night and see Weapons in the theater. I fully stand by my choice.

What we know: One night, at exactly 2:17 a.m., 17 children in Justine Gandy (Julia Garner)’s elementary-school class all disappear, except for a student named Alex (Cary Christopher). Video surveillance from Ring cams show all the children quasi-Naruto-running outside of their homes of their own volition, without explanation of why or where they’re going. The townsfolk are angry and naturally turn their suspicions toward Gandy. Sadly, she is just as lost and confused as they are. Cregger proceeds to weave a tale that mixes paranoia, the supernatural, culture wars, and comedic horror that is the perfect blend for a summertime horror movie.

It seems that major horror releases have seeped beyond the September-October dates, so those people who enjoy being scared to death in a theater no longer have to wait for Halloween. Part of me worries that, with a potential glut of these types of movies, the horror elements may be watered down. There are only so many tropes and jump scares that a viewer can engage in before they get tired. Cregger has defied these conventions in his last two entries. In Barbarian, he was able to take his viewers on a dizzying journey that no one could necessarily predict. For his latest release, he depicts the story from various characters’ points of view, a nod to Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia (1999) or maybe a lesser nod to Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction (1994). [Editor’s note: Basically, the trendy network-narrative device of the era.] I thought this was such a brilliant stroke of storytelling and gave the movie more layers and depth. Each character reveals more background of what is happening while we see the story from their lens. Stylistically, it was extremely effective and kept the viewer engaged as nothing was told in a linear fashion. 

Cregger taps into several references and allegories. During Justine’s meeting with principal Marcus Miller (Benedict Wong), he demands to know what she was teaching in her class. This nods to the current-era cultural wars, and how lesson plans are thwarted by handwringing administrations. For years, the conservative right has waged this assault, demanding any ideas they see as threatening or not following their dogma be removed from classrooms—having books removed from shelves or purging topics from lesson plans so as to not taint the minds of America’s youngsters. And surely, Justine must be responsible for this. After all she (God forbid!) gave a child a ride home once when his parents failed to pick him up from school.

Ironically, Justine is the easiest target for the school’s and parents’ scorn as she is the most empathic character. She has gone out of her way to care for students, and that somehow makes her even more suspicious to them. There is no such thing as an unexplainable tragedy, and the blame must be laid somewhere, on the most convenient “villain.” The satirical element here is that Justine’s character is one of the more compassionate people in the story, yet she is scapegoated for not conforming to what the administration and parents want her to be—it rings true for public education today. 

As Cregger peels back the film’s layers, we see one undaunted parent named Archer (Josh Brolin)’s dream of a large AR-type weapon, fitted with a digital clock displaying 2:17, floating above a suburban house. I immediately thought of school shootings and how at one point, naturally, those students just wouldn’t be in the class again, ever.

From a tonal perspective, there is nothing I love more—speaking as someone who doesn’t gravitate toward horror films—than being in a crowded theater and collectively reacting to a scary scene and then laughing afterwards to break that tension. Cregger deftly handles the tonal shift between comedy and horror that respects the audience without being too heavy-handed with the satire. I absolutely loved this entry. Jason, what did you think?

Jason Fuhrman to Edwanike Harbour

re: hitting its target?

Frankly, I have grown increasingly weary of the horror genre, and I maintain a healthy skepticism about new releases that seem excessively hyped. While I certainly enjoy a good scary movie as much as the next person, I have to admit that I generally don’t get too excited about horror these days. I still see most so-called “elevated” (or art-house) horror films in theaters, and I’m always on the lookout for the next Midsommar (2019), Infinity Pool (2023), or The Substance (2024). But such masterpieces are evidently few and far between. The overabundance of horror films throughout the year definitely seems to dilute their power to shock and disturb viewers. I also think that the genre has become more and more extreme, to the point where audiences are somewhat desensitized. Thus, these types of movies constantly up the ante on gore and violence in order to achieve the same effect. I’m all for pushing the envelope in cinema, but oftentimes it just feels like empty sensationalism. 

That said, Weapons is by far one of the most satisfying horror films I’ve seen in a very long time. I had seen the trailer several times, and it intrigued me. Eventually I began to notice rave reviews all over the internet. However, I did not want to get my hopes up because I honestly did not care for Barbarian that much. Zach Cregger’s directorial debut definitely had a lot of potential and the first half drew me in, but ultimately it went off the rails and just didn’t work for me. (I realize that I am probably in the minority here.) Nevertheless, I decided to give Cregger another chance and I was pleasantly surprised. What a fresh, innovative, and carefully crafted cinematic experience! 

Although Cregger made a name for himself with Barbarian, I think Weapons represents a great leap forward for the writer-director. Here, he has expanded on all the qualities that made his first feature seem so promising. Weapons gripped my mind from the outset and kept me in thrall until the last frame. As the mystery of the children’s disappearance in this small town slowly unravels, the atmosphere becomes increasingly charged and ominous. I completely agree that Cregger’s intricately layered, multi-perspective storytelling was a brilliant choice. Of course this is nothing new and I know that he has acknowledged Magnolia as an inspiration for the narrative structure of Weapons. However, I cannot think of another horror film that adopts this kind of structure and it feels especially well-suited to this story. Cregger reveals details about characters little by little, while each successive chapter only raises more questions and keeps viewers guessing until the film reaches a diabolical crescendo. The film also reveals surprising emotional depth in its focus on the collective grief of the townspeople and their individual struggles to cope with the tragedy.

While Weapons features scenes of grisly violence, some genuinely unsettling imagery, and the requisite jump scares, these flourishes never seem gratuitous. The film also incorporates a few impeccably timed moments of black humor. For the most part, it plays as a straight horror flick, but the occasional comic relief definitely adds to the entertainment value of watching it with an audience. Cregger skillfully balances the different tonal elements in the film as he interweaves multiple stories of loss into a rich tapestry of American small-town life beset by the presence of pure evil. Overall, Weapons offers viewers a good time at the movies and it just feels different.     

In an exclusive interview with Collider‘s Steve Weintraub, Cregger discusses how horror allows for more creative freedom than other genres. “The budgets are not extravagant, and so you’re able to be a little risky. I think it’s one of the few theatrical avenues right now where you can be surprised.” Perhaps the reason why I often find myself disappointed by horror films is because many of them apparently do not take advantage of this freedom. Instead, they rely on the same tired tropes, predictable plots, and well-worn formulas, while subjecting audiences to ever more extreme and disturbing content, but not necessarily taking any real risks. When something truly original like Weapons comes out, it reminds me why I enjoy going to see horror films in theaters.

So stock up on vodka and club soda, grab a few cans of Campbell’s® Chicken Noodle Soup (or seven hot dogs with ruffled potato chips, baby carrots, and French onion dip) and see Weapons.

Edwanike Harbour to Jason Fuhrman

re: re: hitting its target?

I definitely agree with you about the over-hyping of horror movies, especially when people are telling you it is the scariest thing they have ever seen—as not evidenced by Longlegs last year. I have mentioned in the past that I am still waiting for a horror movie to just stand on its own merits without being a meditation on PTSD (The Babadook in 2014) or grief (Midsommar in 2019)—both excellent films, by the way.  Also, I did try to go through my cinematic memory and think of a horror movie that builds a narrative from several perspectives and couldn’t find any. However, if you want to see one from the killer’s point of view, In A Violent Nature (2024) would be a superb example. [Editor’s note: The Canadian film was edited by Madison’s own Alex Jacobs.]

Much of what solidifies Weapons as a deeply layered film are the performances. Some standouts include Alden Ehrenreich’s turn as Paul, the alcoholic, mustachioed policeman who is grappling with a failed marriage and his off again / on again paramour, Justine. Paul does an excellent job of pushing the story forward, as he sees getting involved in the case of the missing children as a way to take control and do something positive in his life for once. Then there are his rash choices and flashes of anger, which send bad situations spiraling into a torrent of chaos. In addition, Archer, who unofficially leads the crusade against Justine initially, also shows his depth as he seethes with anger about what the school has allowed in his mind to happen to their children. Yet, he also demonstrates the pangs of hurt and guilt, as he feels that he should have been there to protect his son Matthew.

I did find the malevolent, all-consuming presence of Gladys (Amy Madigan)—Alex’s hex-happy aunt—to be a sign of our times, as she comes off as this clownish character in terms of appearance but everyone who encounters her has to maintain some sense of normalcy. We are truly living in a circus world, my guy, and we are supposed to keep going through the motions as the clowns are running the show. School shootings, corruption, any lack of compassion for humanity has all been normalized and many of us sit there and stare across at it not unlike Marcus does Gladys in their initial meeting as if things are completely normal.

Cregger is off to a brilliant trajectory thus far, and even though I am not sure how many horror movies I have left in me (Halloween is once again only a couple months away), I think he has demonstrated a lot of promise and I am eager to see what he has in store next.

Jason Fuhrman to Edwanike Harbour

re: re: re: hitting its target?

Metaphors for grief or trauma have certainly become a new trope of the genre. [Editor’s note: The Philippou brothers fully embraced that in the feel-bad Bring Her Back, also released this summer.] Not that there is anything wrong with that, but I understand what you mean. Although I didn’t particularly like The Babadook, Midsommar remains the benchmark against which contemporary horror movies are measured for me. One of my favorite films of 2025 feels like something of a spiritual successor to Ari Aster’s darkly comic folk horror masterpiece. Mark Anthony Green’s Opus, also distributed by A24, stars Ayo Edebiri as an ambitious young journalist who travels to the remote compound of an eccentric pop superstar (John Malkovich), who disappeared from the limelight decades ago. While it received mixed reviews, I absolutely loved it and thought it was a brilliant satire of the cult of celebrity. In my opinion, this is one of the most overlooked horror films of the year and another example of a picture that attempts to do something different as it subverts the conventions of the genre. And I caught In A Violent Nature at the Wisconsin Film Festival in 2024. The idea of an “ambient slasher film” from the perspective of the killer is definitely original and seeing that movie in a packed theater was really a lot of fun.

For me, Weapons is one of those rare horror films that actually lives up to the hype. However, I like that the film’s marketing was not too aggressive and didn’t try to sell it as the scariest thing you’ve ever seen. But it was effective because the premise just seemed so intriguing. I was also drawn in by the presence of Josh Brolin, who plays the grief-stricken, confrontational father of one of the missing children. His anger and intensity in the trailer really convinced me to see the film. The nuanced performances in Weapons definitely made the movie for me. Although the original cast was radically different from the final ensemble, I felt like every role was perfectly suited to the actor and of course now I cannot imagine anyone else playing these characters. I was not familiar with Julia Garner, who plays Justine, but she was impressive, especially as the film gradually reveals her self-destructive behavior and shows how her feelings of survivor guilt compel her to make some highly questionable decisions.

While Weapons certainly emphasizes the absurdity of each individual’s desperate and misguided actions, Cregger depicts them with compassion, allowing viewers to understand where they are coming from. Thus, all of them feel like vividly three-dimensional, complicated human beings who are seeking meaning and solace amidst this terrible tragedy. Cregger’s character-driven, multifaceted approach to the narrative not only adds psychological depth, but it also heightens the sense of mystery as our perceptions shift. I also really liked Alden Ehrenreich as Paul, the hapless, bumbling cop. Creggers says in a Variety interview that this is a direct reference to John C. Reilly (and his mustache) in Magnolia.

I hadn’t really thought much about what the character of Aunt Gladys represents in this movie. But yours is certainly an interesting interpretation. At first she seems basically harmless, despite her bizarre appearance. Everyone who encounters her becomes instantly uncomfortable and can tell there is something strange about her. But they pretend things are normal and Gladys gradually insinuates herself into the life of this small town, becoming increasingly terrifying and powerful. Whether or not this was Cregger’s intention, I definitely think that is an apt metaphor for the current state of affairs and how ordinary people can be consumed by the forces of evil.

Evidently, there has been talk of a possible Weapons prequel exploring Aunt Gladys’ backstory. To be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about this because I think what makes her so fascinating is her ambiguity. I also remain skeptical of spinoffs in general, and the cynic in me wonders if this is just an attempt by New Line Cinema and Warner Bros. to milk the surprising box office success of Weapons. We’ll see. But I’m also curious to see what Cregger does next and his sophomore effort has definitely persuaded me to reappraise his work.

This has been a prolific year for horror films, and I’m also not sure how many more I have in me either. However, Weapons is a breath of fresh air and I hope this will encourage other horror directors to explore the relative creative freedom offered by the genre. I was pleasantly surprised by Michael Shanks’ recent body-horror romantic comedy Together, starring real-life married actors Alison Brie and Dave Franco. Although I was initially reluctant to see the film because I just wasn’t sure if it would suit my tastes, it was much more of a (black) comedy than I was expecting. While it was certainly gruesome and disturbing, Together maintained that perfect tonal balance between horror and humor, much like Weapons.