Fantastically unpredictable. For a moment, I got When a Stranger Calls/Psycho vibes when the movie completely shifted gears. The acting is superb, with the first half being an especially well-performed/written affair involving the resilient Georgina Campbell and the pitch-perfect Bill Skarsgard, whose gangly, ematiated visage gives off just the right level of "is he or isn't he?" Justin Long does a masterful job of embodying toxic masculinity and entitlement while being genuinely hilarious even as things get weird real fast. Really though, the commendations must go to writer/director Zach Cregger.
As a diehard WKUK fan, my jaw dropped when his name popped up at the end. I owned the first two seasons of WKUK on DVD and their insanely dark sketches were my bread and butter "A Gallon of PCP?" Cregger was especially memorable as an asshole Abraham Lincoln "You skinny ass piece of shit! Ya tubba lard lookin' motherfucker!" Over ten years ago, he and the late, great Trevor Moore directed the massively unpopular Miss March, which supposedly caused their production deals to dry up. Presumably, they were being groomed to become the heirs apparent to an Apatow-style universe of raunchy comedy, but that was not to be. Most of the group continued working, albeit in much less high-profile roles, but Cregger was the one who appeared to be just a bit more ambitious. He starred in a failed series (Guys with Kids) and popped up in various tv and film projects which didn't really land. And now here he is, like Todd Solondz before him, roaring back after a long absence to deliver a complex, confidently crafted clockwork of subterranean terror.
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