The trailers for The Front Room do a stellar job of putting forth the image of a horror movie you’ve seen before. By leaning into the notion of an “A24 horror film,” a designation that, if you know anything about how distributors work, is relatively meaningless, they’re able to sell a product that defies the expectations that even the most savvy viewer may have. Is it a supernatural spooker? A religion-forward possession movie? A jet black comedy? All/none of the above?
I’m not telling.
Brandy Norwood (yes, the Brandy) plays Belinda, an expectant mother who has recently left her job in the face of massive disrespect from her superiors. She and her husband Norman (Andrew Burnap), now the sole breadwinner, have spent the past few months getting their home ready for the arrival of their child. Finances are a bit tight, but a potential opportunity arises after Norman’s father passes away: his stepmother Solange (Kathryn Hunter) wishes to give all of her wealth to the young couple, but in exchange she expects to move into their home. Norman is hesitant on account of his history with Solagne — they’ve never gotten along, but Belinda talks him into it. Let’s face it, they could really use the money.
And so it goes.
But Solange is not the easiest person to live with. She has needs, she has demands, she has bowel movements, and she lacks any amount of tact or gratitude. She’s all of the worst parts of having a baby, sans all of the benefits. Simply put, Solange is the fucking worst. And once the baby is born Solange wants to be directly involved in raising her. Tensions immediately arise on the grounds of faith, race, and finances, leading to Belinda’s home life becoming a very specific type of nightmare.
To say more would be to spoil the fun.
The Front Room is written and directed by Max and Sam Eggers, the former of whom wrote The Lighthouse, which only kinda sorta gives you a hint about what to expect here. No, this isn’t as outwardly surreal an insane as Robert Eggers’ modern classic, but there’s a similar sense of humor (and reliance on bodily function gags) that runs through the entirety of the film. Add to that an utterly diabolical performance from Kathryn Hunter, and there are the makings of a camp classic here.
I say that not to demean the film. So often the term “camp” is thrown around as a half-hearted defense of bad art, which is very much not the case here. I use the term to illustrate how heightened Solange’s behaviors are, and how much laughter they evoke without undercutting the terror at the heart of the story. Few people are keen on having their in-laws come to visit, let alone having them move in indefinitely, and The Front Room pushes this concept to its most extreme limits, mining horror from the frustrations commonly associated with accommodating an unwanted guest.
…and then some.
It’s an intense moviegoing experience, and viewers who can’t key into the jet black humor of it will likely be turned off by the whole thing — the story calls for a whole lot of cringing. Those who can tap into the film’s strange energy will also be cringing the whole way through, but with a ridiculous grin on their faces. As the film reaches its final moments it feels for a second like a fair amount of plot threads were abandoned, but after sitting with it for a few days I grew to love the way it played with my expectations. Nothing was abandoned, but a lot of weird shit is revealed to be weird shit of a very different flavor. And it all leads to a finale that feels correct and is very, very satisfying. Can you tell I’m trying to be vague?
It’s wonderful to see the legendary Brandy back on screen, and in the genre that many moviegoers tend to associate her with on account of I Still Know What You Did Last Summer. She’s fantastic here, leaning away from any pre-packaged star power and instead delivering a grounded performance that gets a lot of mileage from her natural charm and charisma. Belinda is easy to root for, and when faced with a parade of injustices throughout the course of the film, Brandy builds a wealth of character without using words at all. Hers is a subtly physical performance, and it’s the perfect foil for Hunter’s more overtly kinetic work. The battle of wits and identities that spawns between them is a real hoot. Even folks who aren’t enamored with the film at large will certainly find value in watching these two actresses square off in a variety of settings.
The Front Room is a smaller film than many of its “A24 horror” forebears, and it lacks the dynamic direction of Midsommar or the airtight script of Hereditary, but it’s a scrappy, effective, and fun late-summer genre exercise that is sure to find a cult following when it hits streaming. But why wait? I saw this with a crowd, and I think it works best when a large group of people get to laugh and squirm together. And you will squirm.
Directed by Max Eggers, Sam Eggers
Written by Max Eggers, Sam Eggers, based on the short story by Susan Hill
Starring Brandy Norwood, Kathryn Hunter, Andrew Burnap, Neal Huff
Rated R, 94 minutes
