As I purchased my ticket to see “You’re Next,” I had no idea what the movie was about. The extremely vague commercials I saw on television offered no plotline, so all I knew was that someone was going to be slaughtering people while wearing a bunny mask. Yawn.
Like any good, old-fashioned, cheesy horror film the opening scene was riddled with an unnecessary amount of boob action. What came next was nothing short of predicable — everyone knows the naked girl always dies first.
As the movie progressed, a picture is painted through the wobbly filming style that directors are so fond of lately. The Davidson family is reunited after years of distance to celebrate Mr. and Mrs. Davidson’s anniversary at a large cabin in the middle of the woods.
The family comes from wealth, so of course they are portrayed as the cliché we have all seen a million times. The sons resent each other, the mother is on medication and they have all come together for a weekend of wholesome bickering and passive-aggressive jabs at one another.
Roughly 15 minutes in, the movie takes a turn for the gory. As a horror film junkie who is almost never affected by splashes of red corn syrup, I will say that the deaths were some of the most frightening I have seen.
“You’re Next” is the picture of every person’s worst nightmare — watching as your family dies horrible deaths right before your eyes and knowing, as you may be able to guess, that you are next.
Family members are dying left and right, mostly due to their own stupidity. As arrows fly through the room, people stand screaming in front of the windows, instead of ducking for cover.
Although no one in real life would ever behave this way, where would horror movies be without people hovering too long over dead bodies, lingering alone in empty rooms and investigating bumps in the night without a single weapon to protect themselves with?
After killing, the masked men would smear the words “You’re Next” on the walls using their victim’s blood. The phrase had nothing to do with anything except to give the filmmakers a title. But hey, at least the killers punctuated it correctly.
Half-way through the movie a war wages on between attackers and would-be victims. If there is a group of people getting picked off, you can bet some random character will end up having insane self-defense skills.
This proves true and the movie suddenly morphs into a twisted version of the children’s classic “Home Alone,” with multiple booby traps that are actually taken straight from the movie.
The fear is accentuated nicely with a disturbingly cheery soundtrack and sound clips that remind me of the introduction to a Madonna song.
Strangely enough, the crowd I watched “You’re Next” with and I shared somewhat of a bonding experience; we laughed together, we screamed together. The movie was actually quite comical in between the graphic scenes, which I’m sure was not intentional.
It’s not exactly the norm to be laughing while scared out of your wits, but I actually liked it. “You’re Next” provided the ridiculous dialogue, bad acting and not-so-shocking plot twist that we all secretly love, along with the terrifying brutality essential to any good horror film.