THE STORY – Everything goes to hell for newly-pregnant Belinda after her mother-in-law moves in. As the diabolical guest tries to get her claws on the child, Belinda must draw the line somewhere.
THE CAST – Brandy Norwood, Andrew Burnap & Kathryn Hunter
THE TEAM – Max Eggers & Sam Eggers (Directors/Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 95 Minutes
Horror villains work best when they’re singular and iconic. Nothing makes more of an impression than an antagonist who’s immediately identifiable in appearance, manner, and (except the classic mute slashers) voice. Enter Solange, brought to life by the extremely talented Kathryn Hunter, the wickedest old lady since Ruth Gordon first rang the doorbell in “Rosemary’s Baby.” It’s impossible to have a discussion about “The Front Room” that doesn’t begin and end with Hunter and her devilish creation. The new film from the writer-director duo of Max and Sam Eggers doesn’t have much going on beneath its surface, despite hints to the contrary, but that’s just fine when it features a performance as captivating as Hunter’s. She lures the audience in, making them dread whatever she’ll be getting up to next while at the same time waiting with perverse excitement for her next entrance.
Solange is the elderly stepmother of Norman (Andrew Burnap), the husband of the very pregnant Belinda (Brandy Norwood). When Norman’s father dies, he and Belinda are forced to reckon with estranged elements of Norman’s past, including the ultra-religious Solange. It turns out it was the dead man’s last wish that Norman and Solange reconnect, and Solange offers the couple a great deal of money to let her move in with them. While the odd living arrangement begins with tentative amicability, it’s not long before Solange’s intense faith and generally insistent nature begin to take their toll on Belinda. While Norman spends most of the day away at work, the recently unemployed Belinda is forced to take care of Solange and her increasingly irritating demands. As Belinda’s due date approaches, she struggles to keep her sanity in the volatile household.
There’s so much to praise about the specifics of Hunter’s performance. First of all, there’s the impressive physical nature of her work, which Hunter has been known for to film lovers since her stunning, contortionist performance in “The Tragedy of Macbeth.” Here, she scutters around the house with an appropriately wobbly nature that never makes her seem weak or less threatening. The pair of canes she uses to walk makes her look like an unsteady yet menacing four-legged creature. And her vocal work is just as notable. The British actress adopts a thick Southern accent that sometimes takes a second after a line delivery to interpret exactly what she’s saying. It helps her stand out even more as an oddity against the film’s Massachusetts setting. But what’s less obviously laudable but just as remarkable is her complete lack of vanity. Hunter quite literally throws herself into the role, which doesn’t shy away from some of the more unglamorous aspects of aging, even occasionally dipping into gross-out body horror. Audiences won’t be forgetting Solange anytime soon.
Norwood (or simply Brandy, as she’s mononymously known) makes for a worthy foe to Hunter’s antics. She’s beyond sympathetic, outside of the given circumstances of her pregnant, put-upon character. Norwood brings a level of relatability from her very first moments but is also fully capable of turning up Belinda’s rage when necessary. Smartly, she often conveys this by dropping her voice to a deeper register, bringing an unexpected level of menace to her character. Burnap does everything he’s supposed to do as Belinda’s wimpy husband, even if the characterization is frustratingly shallow.
The Eggers brothers show a clear gift for crafting memorable, evocative visuals. Even though the film is almost entirely set within one house, the camera moves around it with consistent creativity (one long take involving a mirror calls attention to itself yet still impresses), keeping the film from feeling visually repetitive. This is an intelligent choice, as the screenplay itself has a habit of hitting the same beats over and over again. Obviously, this is done to make viewers feel as exhausted as Belinda, but it has the effect of making the film feel unfortunately predictable at times. The movie never gets ahead of this, leading to a strangely deflating conclusion. The audience is trained to become accustomed to the screenplay’s patterns, with occasional hints at surprising elements that never entirely reveal themselves or, at best, turn out to be less shocking than hoped. Do these reversals of expectations count as a twist? Perhaps, but they’re neither necessary nor particularly welcome.
Still, the film is tense, nasty, and oddly hilarious. Solange is the star of the show, and while she’s far from murderous, she joins the ranks of Jason, Michael, and Freddy as a new horror icon.
