One of those stealth surprises that sneaks into the multiplex every now and then as if the corporate overlords decided to just stuff it in a T-shirt gun and blast unsuspecting audiences with it, Barbarian is a witty and shocking slice of nasty that keeps you off-balance to the point that once you’re a reel in, you never have your feet securely on the ground at any point from then on out. Ideally, you don’t want to know too much about what all lurks within — not so much because of drop-anticipating twists, but because the story unfolds like the LeMarchand Configuration from Hellraiser. The story reshapes itself, recontextualizing what we’ve seen and fucking with your certainties in the way that horror can expand beyond the realm of The Real and The Plausible.
But without dwelling on job anxiety, pandemic drama, the legacy of white flight, corrosive masculine impulses and the toxic histories of what all happened as Cold War construction was compelled to shift purposes, all of these factors coalesce together, creating a relatable labyrinth of frustrated terror that just doesn’t let up. If that film from 2016 that everyone seemed to give way more credit than deserved was the Edward Lee way of telling this story, then Barbarian does so in a way equal parts Jack Ketchum and Sam Raimi.
Writer-director Zach Cregger got his start performing in the sketch comedy troupe The Whitest Kids U’ Know (respect to the memory of Trevor Moore), even directing the group's magnum opus The Civil War on Drugs. He makes a hell of an impression with his horror debut (the less said about 2009’s messy-but-interesting-but-shortfalling Miss March, the better), a nimble and brisk journey into the unfortunate aspects of the short-term rental game. This may seem like a weird compliment, but it would in no way surprise me to find out Cregger had some training in stage magic and sleight of hand, because he understands structure and showmanship in a way that isn’t widely taught outside of very specific disciplines.
So Barbarian, if anything, is a roller-coaster you never saw coming. Take nothing for granted — and leave the key in the box when, and if, you leave.
