Review: Cobweb

Director:  Samuel Bodin

Stars:  Woody Norman, Cleopatra Coleman, Lizzy Caplan

Kudos to director Samuel Bodin and screenwriter Chris Thomas Devlin for offering up something so doggedly out of fashion with present horror trends. Cobweb is almost belligerent in its approach. Edited to within an inch of its life; lit like there’s a cost of living crisis or something; utterly mirthless and deeply committed to several J-horror bits. Few mainstream offerings have tried this hard to (cancel a) party like it’s 2002.

Seemingly as jobless as they are joyless, parents Carol (Lizzy Caplan) and Mark (Antony Starr) live in a rustic detached house in the autumnal suburbs of Holdenbrook with their sensitive son Peter (Woody Norman). From the very beginning the dynamic in the home feels off. Arch. Warped. We’re in some dark fairy tale, it seems. A piece of modern gothic. Initially reading as merely cold or old-worldly, Carol and Mark escalate quickly to the downright sinister, and so Cobweb broods an aura of potential child abuse. Peter’s nighttime fears of beings in the walls could read as psychological manifestations of the dour horrors of a life without love. Substitute teacher Miss Devine (Cleopatra Coleman) picks up on the bad vibes right away.

Add recess bullies to the mix, and it’s not a fun time for Peter or, by proxy, us. Cobweb plays its cards coyly while also asking for patience. Still, modern mainstream releases are usually so insistent on puncturing tone with quips or winks to camera that Bodin’s sustained scowl feels almost disarming. Like it or not, Cobweb is presented as a tonally consistent vision.

To wit, this is one mystery that takes itself exceedingly seriously (occasionally to its own detriment). Bodin’s focus on atmosphere and composition (he’s a sucker for patterns) threatens to eclipse any interest in character. Carol and Mark seem impossible to know, though the later narrative reveals more or less require this to be the case. Still, it leaves us with just poor Peter; a frightened, long-suffering child who bears the burden of keeping our interest.

Fortunately, young Woody Norman is already proven (he previously sparkled as half of the winning double-act at the centre of Mike Mills’ charming C’mon C’mon). With his mop of hair still in tact, he readily brings to mind little Danny Torrance in The Shining, albeit stuck in a darker, more claustrophobic haunted house. Tales of missing children in the neighbourhood and the countdown to Halloween night do little to ease the oppressive aura of misgiving; as smothering as you’ll find this side of an Oz Perkins picture.

Keeping this thing to a trim 88 minutes is commendable, but the shears are sometimes applied a little hastily, especially once Bodin pitches his third act into terminal gloom. When things finally amp up Cobweb has a habit of becoming, simply, incomprehensible, with cuts coming faster than the eye’s ability to discern what’s on screen. Sometimes this may be the point. To further terrorise through mere glimpses. At others its simply confused.

Nevertheless, when Cobweb works, it is pure in its intent to scare the crap out of us. The hoary Conjuring Universe jumps are awkward, but they’re the minority. Bodin’s commitment to his dark mood pays dividends once the movie starts turning into a gloomy mix of creature feature and home invasion horror. This one becomes a great little chest-pounder, only truly tarnished by a kooky coda that punctures the off-kilter sense of reality rather sharply so as to play further into its established fairy tale logic.

The good stuff – while deeply indebted to Asian forbearers like Takashi Shimizu – is thrilling enough to forgive the perceivable plot holes and inconsistencies (for a family against Halloween, Carol and Mark sure do have a lot of pumpkins…). And while the shuffling of scenes in the edit causes a few glaring continuity errors, the commitment to the piece shown by all wins out in the end.

Cobweb nestles in the uncomfortable worry that those you depend on most don’t have enough love for you. It’s a genuinely creepy debut for Bodin. Rough-hewn at times, but promising plenty more sleepless nights down the road.