Review: A Quiet Place
A SILENT CULTURE
The opening moments of this film introduce something that I can’t wait to describe to you: the texture of silence. Let that sink in for a second. We watch these kids quietly meander a ransacked drug store and as the camera shots alternate between their faces, the quality of sound changes in kind. You hear the hushed, low hum of airy, background stillness as it lazily wafts in from the outdoors - a simple summer day - against this thick, heavy, oppressive silence. It doesn’t scream at you, but the contrast is unmistakable, and you have to draw your own conclusions because you’re 3 minutes into the film and all you know is that no one’s talking.
Silent storytelling begins to paint a picture of a world where sound is an apparent liability. Every move is careful and calculated, sign language is the only means of communication, and safe walking paths are heavily marked in white sand; a merciful guide for bare feet and an effective dampener of sound. But when the youngest child innocently makes a commotion and gets snatched in the blink of an eye it’s unapologetic and faster than you can properly register. The creatures that blindly stalk the landscape will hunt you at a moment’s notice and all you have to do is speak. A single sound means certain death. This is the world in which they live.
There are so many subtle and unannounced ways in which everyday life has been adapted for survival in this new and unforgiving reality. Look out for these details. A casual dinnertime prayer is now a silent ritual where the squeeze of hand is all that can be “said” from one person to the next. It’s clear that a great deal of attention has been given to creating a holistically believable and fleshed-out world. Look for ceramic plates. Look for velcro. It’s honestly rewarding to see how thoroughly the filmmakers took advantage of this storytelling mechanic. When the time comes and dialogue is actually spoken, it’s almost jarring. Alarming. And it should be given what we know about survival here.
THE HUMAN ELEMENT
So sure, the creative storytelling is impressive. Inventive, even. But what gives this film so much staying power is the relational aspect. The family. John Krasinski’s character embodies everything you could want from a father figure. A flawed human, sure, but a loving, watchful, protective, and trustworthy dad. His on-screen presence brings a sense of security and comfort that you can look to for guidance as you sit in your comfortable reclining theater seat. Emily Blunt as the mother is no exception, either. While she brings grace, humor, and the sweetest of smiles, she’s an unbreakable and resilient woman. The two bring a tangible magnetism to the screen and their warmth pulls you in like an extension of the family.
In the modern age of cinema, we’re also blessed with young on-screen talent. The kids feel like real, complex, believable humans. They feel like it felt to be at that age. Anxiety and uncertainty. A certain lack of self-assurance and that lurching pit in your stomach when you’d rather forget about what lies ahead.
And there is your cast: a charming family of four. But no one is perfect. They have disagreements and bickering and angst that play out in such familiar ways. A parental need to protect the ones they love and an adolescent yearning to be recognized for who you are, as you are. To feel loved for that. We find them here at the end of the world with no one but each other, and yet the personal conflict between them is the most real and down-to-earth thing about them. We get this private window into the intimate, emotional struggles of their lives only to find that window is a mirror into our own lives.
THE TENSION
As lovable as the family is, the film still makes room for their fear and their dread. There is a relentless and well-founded tension throughout and just when you think it can’t get worse, a new peril is lying in wait that’s even more unforgiving than the last. In fact, that’s all it does. It just gets worse and no one gets a break - not even the audience, for that matter. It’s a grip-the-arms-of-your-seat kind of tension that stays just as long as it needs to. Any more and you’d become inoculated to the routine of suspense, any less and you wouldn’t hold your breath.
Technical: AUDIO
Normally I’m more than ready to jump over to the visual aspects of the film but here, the audio really steals the spotlight. The sound design, in large part, is extremely well done. If you didn’t gather that from the opening moments, you’ll be consistently reminded of it for the next hour and a half. The sound effects, menial background noise, audible mouth sounds, the quiet and exasperated sighs, and sometimes the very lack of sound is all so precise and well-measured that you are swept up into the struggle with them. It transports you. You experience it alongside this beloved family.
In contrast, I think some of the cracks start to show in the film’s score. Early on, you get these short snippets of music or swells or keys that don’t last quite long enough to feel purposeful. So when you return to the quiet of walking through the forest, it feels like a cumbersome exchange. However, if it’s not the brevity, it’s the emotional tone. The music projects this overly sentimental vibe that feels heavy-handed and unnecessary. That’s a disappointment when the auditory experience is so vital. I think many of these moments would have been better served without the score because we’d have been allowed to hold on to the unbearable, awkward silence for just a little while longer.
Technical: VISUAL
From the onset of the film, the artistic caliber of the cinematography is apparent. You could take a still frame of any moment and have an instant HD wallpaper and that’s honestly a rarity. It’s just that beautiful. Whether you’re presented with a wide shot, an overhead, or a closeup, the composition is impeccable, the focus is careful, and the color palette is thoroughly consistent, as well it should be when you’re telling a primarily unspoken narrative.
However, there’s a weakness here, too, and that is found in the CGI. When the creature amplifies its hearing we get this particular close up of the muscle and cartilage in its alien ear canal. I’m not here to criticize the concept of extraterrestrial echolocation - just how it’s portrayed on-screen. It’s a little too Syfy channel. A little too 2005. Because in 2018, there are now video games that look significantly better than this alien ear canal and that disparity really shows. The texture/effects cheapen the shot in such a way that honestly stands to break the immersion. What makes it worse is that we get to see that same sequence every single time. Other on-screen moments of the creature are fairly decent. They lurk in shadows and attack in a flurry of speed which helps obscure the finer details. Sometimes the less you see, the more compelling it is. Particularly when you’re not boasting top notch CGI.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Here’s what I find interesting: it’s not a pretentious film and it so easily could have been. In someone else’s hands, it likely would have been. You’re set up for a borderline horror flick with the gimmick of auditory cues engineered for jump scares. Instead, you get a deeply relational experience. I’m genuinely impressed that so much could be conveyed and that emotion could be so evoked with minimalistic sound and virtually no spoken dialogue. When it all hits the fan and a father signs a simple message of love to his daughter I lost it. I could feel my jaw tighten and tears creep down my cheek. Relentless compassion and selfless love is not what I expected when I walked into the theater. When you can deliver that much emotional depth against a backdrop of gripping suspense you’ve got something pretty special. While not perfect, it’s a remarkable testament to creative storytelling.
