Courtney Howard // Film Critic
THE FRONT ROOM
Rated R, 1 hour and 34 minutes
Directed by: Max Eggers, Sam Eggers
Starring: Brandy Norwood, Andrew Burnap, Kathryn Hunter, Neal Huff
Max and Sam Eggers’ THE FRONT ROOM doesn’t exactly traffic in traditional forms of terror like slice-and-dice killers, bumps in the night, or boogeymen that dwell in shadowy corners. This psychodrama goes for deeper, more haunting scare tactics, tapping into latent, complex fears of the inevitable – both growing old and turning into a societal burden, as well as being the unwitting caretaker saddled with an infirm in-law from Hell. Though captured through a camp-smothered lens, utilizing hagsploitation as the narrative conduit pitting a protective Black woman against a decrepit, diminutive, duplicitous white woman, the picture presented isn’t so much scary as it is wishful thinking that generational sacrilege can be defeated rather than inherited.
Pregnant anthropology professor Belinda Irwin (Brandy Norwood) is going through a tough time at work, taken for granted by disinterested students and her fellow faculty, who, despite the end of the semester approaching, doesn’t have her scheduled to teach the following year. She’s also on edge at home since finances are as stretched as her growing belly. She doesn’t even have enough money to buy paint for the nursery. There’s also the lingering dread over her pregnancy, given her first child was stillborn. Her doting husband/ public defender Norman (Andrew Burnap) hopes they rebound once the baby is born, he wins an impending big case and gets a promised raise. However, that influx of cash actually comes quicker than the couple expected, but at a cost.
Norman’s estranged father dies, leaving behind his disabled, aged widow Solange (Kathryn Hunter), who’s got a small fortune to bestow on her stepson and daughter-in-law if and only if they take her into their home to care for her in her waning days. While Norman is reticent to allow this devil woman back into his life, since she tortured him in his youth with the extreme belief that the Holy Spirit possesses her, Belinda believes it’ll only be a temporary trouble. Yet their new houseguest’s initial sugary sweetness cloaks a sadistic sass that eventually surfaces once Belinda gives birth to a baby girl. Things escalate into psychological and physical warfare, showing Belinda that Solange isn’t filled with the Holy Spirit – in fact, it’s quite the opposite.
Through a caricaturized portrait of a small, sanctimonious Southern bible beater, the Eggers Brothers (adapting from a short story by Susan Hill) explore resonant frightening facets of aging, disability, racism and religious zealotry. In their hands, Solange is a sociopathic twist on the wicked stepmother archetype. Her canes thump on the floorboards in furious derision. Her raspy bayou drawl – a relic from a traumatic bygone era – is deeply menacing when purposely victimizing herself or twisting holy scriptures into unholy applications. As seen in repetitive montages, she weaponizes her incontinence – a spiteful mess of urine and feces – further wearing down a frazzled Belinda, who is simultaneously sleeplessly servicing her own baby girl. She also pulls a FIGHT CLUB, manipulating a sticky situation with Belinda to purposely sow distrust in the marriage. The filmmakers even spoof religious iconography, not only with the Christian fish pendant as large as Flavor Flav’s clock, but also the nightmarish, postpartum visions Belinda has of Solange, cast as the Madonna to her child in painterly recreations. Hunter’s ability to sink into the sinister as a stepmonster-in-law is unparalleled and unforgettable.
Norwood shines, particularly within the heavily-stylized, sleepwalk-esque nightmares where she marries resonant maternal worries with deep wells of grief. Cinematographer Ava Berkofsky’s color palette aligns perfectly with Belinda’s psyche, delivering saturated warmth when she’s in a happier state (during Solange’s initial welcome and Belinda’s peaceful resignation in the finale) and cooler, starker tones when she’s mentally weakened (like after Belinda returns home from the hospital and anytime she suspects Solange of malevolence). Whether Belinda is asserting herself as the home’s matriarch, or trying her best to maintain control of spiraling situations surrounding her wicked elderly charge, she bestows a stoic sense of strength to her character’s actions. She’s naturalistically building audience empathy so when the moment of release inherently arises, it’s a satiating, if not a little silly, resolution.
Still, the Eggers brothers surprisingly make more than a few rookie mistakes. Distracting logistic conundrums arise occasionally. The flimsy reasoning for not hiring in-home care for Solange is glossed over all too quickly. It’s also absolute nonsense that non-believer Belinda would consult with Solange’s pastor (Neal Huff), especially after that woman’s sadistic attention-seeking shenanigans. Norman is severely underwritten to the point that his inclusion comes at a detriment to these ladies’ adversarial relationship. He shows little to no character evolution, sticking up for his wife only when screenwriter contrivance calls for it to usher us into a rushed third act. Burnap, in turn, isn’t allowed any material to establish himself as a performer, despite the first act hinting he might be given greater story weight. Unlike John Cassavetes’ minimally designed role as Mia Farrow’s slippery husband in ROSEMARY’S BABY, the Eggers’ spin on that emulated character design with Norman fails to come into a similar, strong sense of focus by the end.
The Eggerses (who, incidentally, are the younger twin brothers of filmmaker Robert Eggers) combine inspirations like Polanski’s aforementioned picture with WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? to decent effect. It may not be as provocative or grotesque a tale as anticipated, given its influences and potential to dip further into the unreliable narrator concept, which it only toys with then swiftly loses interest. But it makes its points with efficiency and brevity – and that’s hard to fault.
Grade: 3.5 out of 5
THE FRONT ROOM opens in theaters on September 6.
