PLOT: Suspicion falls on a young teacher (Julia Garner) when all of her students—minus one—randomly walk out of their homes at 2:17 a.m., never to be seen again.
REVIEW: The previews for Weapons have been left deliberately vague, and I warn anyone reading this to be wary of any review that goes too in-depth. This won’t be one of those—I promise. The fact is, your enjoyment of Weapons will be at its highest the less you know about it. But there’s a reason why Zach Cregger’s script sparked a bidding war, despite it only being his second film. While Barbarian was a sleeper hit, I personally found it slightly overpraised. Not so with Weapons—this is a new classic as far as horror cinema goes.
One thing I’ve noted in some of my recent horror reviews is that the genre seems to be split between micro-budget studio horror films and more prestigious arthouse horror. Weapons, financed by Warner Bros. and New Line, harkens back to an era when horror movies could be big-budget, A-list studio productions—think The Exorcist and The Shining (both of which were WB films, which makes this feel even more appropriate).
While it takes its time before the horror really kicks in, once it does, it hits hard, with Cregger composing some arresting, gore-soaked visuals that rank among the most brutal imagery I’ve seen in mainstream horror in a long time. Yet what gives it real impact is that much of the film plays out like a classic, character-driven drama, highly reminiscent of Magnolia. It follows several compelling characters, most notably those played by Julia Garner, Josh Brolin, and Alden Ehrenreich.
Garner makes a huge impression as the teacher at the heart of the mystery. In a more conventional horror film, her character would be portrayed as some kind of innocent heroine, but in Weapons she’s a far more prickly—and realistic—presence. Her Justine Gandy is a functioning alcoholic with a messy life, and she’s not always portrayed sympathetically. More than anything, though, this makes her feel real—like someone you actually know, not a cookie-cutter horror movie protagonist.
The same goes for Brolin’s character, Archer, who initially seems like he’ll be a stock hysterical parent, but he has surprising layers. The film smartly uses Brolin’s signature gravitas and machismo as it veers deeper into genre territory. Ehrenreich, too, is fantastic, stealing scenes as a self-destructive cop with a complicated history with Justine. He gets drawn into the mystery in a way that’s both emotionally grounded and narratively surprising.
Of course, I know I’m being vague, but that’s deliberate. Anyone who spoils anything that happens in the third act is a monster. There’s a performance in the film that’s so unexpected and so good that I don’t even want to say who plays the role. Trust me—it’s best to go in ice cold.
Cregger also does an excellent job evoking the vibe of a small town: the single dive bar, the liquor store everyone goes to, the quiet, eerie streets—it all feels lived-in and authentic. The film is beautifully shot by Larkin Seiple, who gives the movie a rich, cinematic texture that elevates everything. The music is also top-notch—not just the moody, atmospheric score (composed by Cregger himself along with Ryan and Hays Holladay), but also the song choices, which are pitch-perfect and never overdone.
All that said, I think I’m going to leave it there. Again, this is a film that works best if you go in knowing as little as possible. There will be time for deep dives and breakdowns later. For now, just know that Weapons is the real deal. It’s a powerhouse horror film that manages to be genuinely disturbing, emotionally resonant, and artistically bold all at once.
I truly think Zach Cregger has made a film worthy of awards consideration and the kind of buzz that propels a director to the next level. If there’s any justice, this will cement his place alongside modern genre auteurs like Ryan Coogler, Jordan Peele—and maybe even, one day, Christopher Nolan. He’s one of the most exciting directors we’ve got, and Weapons is him operating in top form.
