‘Sultan of Splat’ Alexandre Aja’s films flit between the grimly horrific (Mirrors, his The Hills Have Eyes remake) and the pulp-y fun (Piranha 3D, Crawl). His latest, Never Let Go, cleaves closer to the former as it threads together cabin-in-the-woods malarkey, survivalist thriller and an allegory-for-motherhood parable.
It’s certainly derivative – cue Bird Box, A Quiet Place, The Babadook – and has its dull bits, but it gets by on some imaginative licks and strong turns, particularly from a game Halle Berry, whose protagonist starts as Sarah Connor in T2 (brutal, no nonsense), then goes full Carrie White’s mother in Carrie (batshit crazy) by the final reel.
The premise is built on more rules than Dungeons & Dragons. The world has been overrun by an all-consuming malevolence forcing Momma (Berry) and her two sons Nathan (Percy Daggs IV) and Sam (Anthony B Jenkins) to live in a remote, ramshackle holding in a Tennessee wood. The family can’t leave the secluded shack without a rope attached, keeping a connection to the sanctity of the love-filled house.
Add to this a mantra that has to be recited before leaving and after returning to the house and the set-up features more hammering home than a DIY show – take a drink every time someone says ‘Never let go’ and you’ll get plastered pretty quickly – rendering the first act extremely laboured. The ticking clock here is the food supply is dwindling (Ocado doesn’t deliver to cursed forests), meaning the threesome have to live on maggots, fried skinned squirrel and sautéed tree bark with a side order of sap.
Take a drink every time someone says ‘Never let go’ and you’ll get plastered quickly
Screenwriters KC Coughlin and Ryan Grassby’s conception of evil throws up some interesting edges. Firstly, it can take manifold forms, from Momma’s grotesque mother to the boys’ late father. Most importantly, it can only be seen by Momma herself – she tells Nolan and Sam it can only be seen by adults. This opens up the intriguing idea that Momma might either be lying or suffering from mental trauma. Trying to figure out where the truth lies is the film’s trump card, driving a wedge between the brothers that carries the film’s second half. This tension is beautifully wrought by Daggs IV and Jenkins, who are excellent even when the film isn’t.
Aja knows the horror terrain well, mixing up jump scares and unsettling imagery with sustained tension (a set-piece involving the family dog comes off smartly). A mid-way twist seems like it’s going to up the ante but the film ultimately drops the ball in the final act, where there is a lot of huff and puff (Fire! Demons! Body horror!) but little in the way of a satisfying conclusion. Ironically, Never Let Go becomes less interesting the more untethered it gets.
Out worldwide Sep 27.