Zach Cregger’s ‘Weapons’ Delivers Summer’s Most Unpredictable Horror
The new film Weapons clocks in at 128 minutes, is rated R for strong bloody violence and grisly images, and is already being hailed as summer’s standout original horror.
My name is Kai Montgomery, your resident cranky cinema sage, and I can’t believe I’m about to admit it, but there’s something worth your ticket money here.
Look, I don’t want to be the one to say it, but in a season packed with comatose sequels and warmed-over franchises, writer-director Zach Cregger serves up a fresh nightmare that actually surprises. Instead of leaning on stale IP, he spins a puzzling tale about 17 fifth graders who mysteriously disappear from a sleepy suburb at 2:17 a.m. on a school night. That setup alone feels like the kind of high-concept you used to see on must-binge cable shows, not gasping in a packed theater.
The core mystery—where have these kids gone—drives every tense moment. Could it be a mass kidnapping, a biblical rapture nod from shows like The Leftovers, or something more warped and unpredictable? Cregger tweaks your expectations with nods to Stranger Things schoolyard creep, Blair Witch Project’s found-footage dread, and even a gory flick of Nicolas Cage’s Longlegs style. Yet he never borrows too heavily, crafting his own brutal mythology.
On Main Street, the town’s resentment lands squarely on teacher Justine, played by Julia Garner with that signature edge you remember from Ozark. Locals key her car, hound her at the grocery store, and demand answers she clearly can’t—or won’t—give. Meanwhile, the sole survivor, a kid named Alex (Cary Christopher), holds the key to this puzzle, giving Cregger an emotional fulcrum that keeps the tension high.
Weapons unfolds in chapters, each devoted to a different adult caught in the spiral. Josh Brolin plays one frantic parent who hunts for clues with steely persistence. Austin Abrams brings comic relief as Anthony, a burnout drug peddler who somehow gets entangled in sinister events. Alden Ehrenreich pops in as a cop teetering between duty and disbelief while Amy Madigan delivers a quietly unsettling turn as Aunt Gladys. These flawed characters—addicts, bullies, secret-keepers—feed the story like combustible fuel, each revealing another puzzle piece until the final twist lands with a bloody, oddball thud.
Cregger’s finale is simultaneously grotesque, darkly funny, and oddly sorrowful, proving that horror still has the guts to shock and move us in ways flat dramas can’t match. If this is the kind of creative vision studios are too chicken to back, maybe the Hollywood system deserves a taste of its own medicine.
All year, we’ve suffered through bloated blockbusters, nostalgia traps, and forgotten flops. Yet from the first eerie frame to the last haunting beat, Weapons had me glued to my seat and occasionally cringing in delight.
And there you have it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Sources: Celebrity Storm and New York Post
Attribution: Creative Commons Licensed
