In Speak No Evil, James McAvoy announces a new type of evil: the insidious fear that being slightly impolite will eventually lead to screaming, painful death. He plays Paddy Phillips, an athletic, intoxicating picture of modern masculinity unafraid to take up space… at least in the eyes of Ben (Scoot McNairy), who walks gleefully into his spider’s web, along with his wife (Mackenzie Davis) and young daughter after they meet and become fast friends on an idyllic Italian holiday.
Made by James Watkins, Speak No Evil is a remake of the acclaimed 2022 Danish original, which earned acclaim and notoriety for one of the bleakest endings in modern horror. It’s a simmering stew of weighty messaging about masculinity and parenting dynamics, buoyed by strong performances and flashes of inconceivable monstrosity. And despite the trailers pretty blatantly laying out the twist, awareness doesn’t really dull its impact.
Defying the cynical accusations that its existence was never necessary, Speak No Evil is a measured, worthy claimant to being one of 2024’s best horror movies. And it manages that without replacing the original, which now becomes more of an urgent companion piece for fans of this version. That dual commitment to respect and refreshment of the source material is something to be admired.
Is Speak No Evil Scary?
Pulse Rates Will Sneak Up As The Movie’s Dread Closes In
Despite the Blumhouse title screen and the expectation that Speak No Evil is a horror, it’s not one for fans of cheap jump scare tactics or lashings of gore. Both do come, but they’re brief punctuations, rather than defining characteristics. The movie, instead, is an intense psychological thriller that playfully pulls on genre threads: it’s painfully tense, disarmingly funny in flashes (you’ll never hear The Bangles’ “Eternal Flame” quite the same), and masterfully cringe-inducing.
The real “horror” comes from the situation and in how easily the propaganda Paddy and Ciara spin becomes believable. Ben’s withered self-confidence is the exact environment Paddy’s impressive macho energy needs to flourish. And Ben and Louise’s relationship issues give them enough of a blind spot to become intoxicated by the Phillips family’s seemingly effortless ideal life.
Speak No Evil does take some time to get going, but the slow burning build is necessary for Paddy and Ciara’s spell to really work. By the 70-minute mark, the dread has built so much that it’s not entirely clear when it took hold, even as you’re encouraged to roll your eyes at Ben and Louise’s reluctance to come to their senses and run very fast in the other direction.
The Cast Is Excellent, But James McAvoy Shines Brightest
If There Was Any Justice, He’d Be Up For An Oscar
All of Speak No Evil‘s cast are exceptionally well-chosen: Mackenzie Davis’ Louise is more reluctant than her husband, and suitably frantic when things turn; Scoot McNairy is once more on excellent form as meager, eager Ben; and Aisling Franciosi is impressive even with the least material to work with of the central four. The kids too – played by Alix West Lefler and the mostly silent Dan Hough – defy all the usual cynicism about working with children.
But the star of the show, fittingly, is James McAvoy as Patrick “Paddy” Phillips, a cocksure blend of Tom Cruise’s Magnolia guru and Tom Hardy’s simmering physicality. He is over-familiar in his touch, disarming in his intelligence, and eventually owes a lot to Robert De Niro’s memorable turn as Max Cady in Scorsese’s Cape Fear. In 1991, that role earned De Niro an Oscar nomination, and I’d happily go early on an enthusiastic campaign for McAvoy to get the same sort of recognition.
Somehow, he also seems to gain about 50 pounds of muscle from the start of the movie to its end, thanks to the subtle subterfuge of McAvoy’s performance. The only downside is his accent wanders across England and Scotland indiscriminately at times. But perhaps that’s in service of convincing us all that he’s never quite what he seems?
The Scottish actor says he channeled Andrew Tate for his performance, but it’s in a more subtle way than the headlines that quote generated might suggest. His toxicity manifests as over-bearing, subtly violent fatherhood, and barely repressed sexual animalism, but crucially he remains charismatic enough to make the Tate comparison stumble. To Ben, though, the parallel is more sound; he sees Paddy as his ideal opposite, and the key to unlocking his emasculation, and both McAvoy and McNairy pull that dynamic off masterfully.
Speak No Evil Wrestles With Realism At Times
There’s A Lot Of Perverse Pleasure In Putting Yourself In The Same Situation
Horror movies often have to rely on the stupidity of their characters for the story to work: victims in waiting either make terrible decisions in high-pressure situations or simply lack any survival instincts until the bodies start to rise up. Speak No Evil plays with the audience by subverting those expectations very precisely, posing the question of when exactly you would have walked away from all the red flags. At times, realism is stretched a little thin when Paddy becomes too insufferable, but the movie does offer some explanation.
Ben and Louise are dealing with their own problems, which underpin the former’s emasculation and in turn make his instant infatuation with Ben believable. That works as an excuse for their broken internal alarm systems, but it could have gone further to better balance it. Some inconvenient questions are navigated well, though: the Wi-Fi, Ant’s inability to write down his warning, and the pressing urge everyone in this situation would have to immediately gossip about Paddy and Ciara.
But then, realistic behavior is the whole point of Speak No Evil, hence the title: it’s all a matter of ignorance. Ben and Louise are the proverbial boiled frogs, unaware of their perilous condition right up until it’s too late. They just happen to also have a thermometer that they choose to ignore because of misplaced social etiquette and decorum. Their conflict aversion is understandable right up to a point, but the fun of the thing is trying to work out where that point should have been.
Do We Really Have To Compare Speak No Evil To The Original?
How James Watkins’ Remake Navigates The Specter Of The Excellent Original
The elephant in the room for Speak No Evil is the original Danish version that came out just two years ago. There probably isn’t a single fan of the original who didn’t roll their eyes at Hollywood once more cashing in on an excellent foreign movie with an English redo. And comparison is usually damning in such cases. But Speak No Evil holds its own thanks to the decision to completely change the ending.
It’s impossible not to compare Watkins’ version to the original, but to do so runs the risk of assessing Speak No Evil for what it’s not, rather than what it is. That said, it’s fair to look at the ending on its own merits and the context of Watkins’ body of work. The director’s take on The Woman In Black changed the book’s ending, and though it was still bleak, it lost a little of the original’s dark magic. Lots of the comparisons between the two versions of Speak No Evil have inevitably centered on the same thing happening again.
Going back further to Eden Lake is arguably more telling: that underrated horror gem ends on a note so grim it sucks the air out of you. For a long time, it feels like Speak No Evil is headed for a similar conclusion, as punishment for Ben and Louise’s naivety, and the choice to go with something new feels a little uneven. It’s all entertaining enough to balance that though, and will satisfy most of the viewers (particularly those who don’t obsess over the sanctity of the original).