The Quiet Place formula—expertly staged monster sequences interspersed with moments of hushed human connection—falters a bit in A Quiet Place: Day One, despite an intriguing premise that takes us far from the rural setting of the first two films and into the heart of New York City. During the initial invasion of giant, praying mantis-type creatures who hunt their prey by sound, a hospice patient (Lupita Nyong’o) finds herself alone in a decimated Manhattan. As we know from Jordan Peele’s Us, there may not be a better face for expressing horror than Nyong’o’s; here, she also brings layers of anger and grief to the part of Samira, a woman who is ready to die, but only on her own terms. Samira mostly interacts with her resilient cat (there is a lot of the cat), until she encounters Eric (Joseph Quinn), a shell-shocked law student. Eric follows her—despite her initial attempts to shoo him away—as she makes her way to Harlem for a last, nostalgic slice of pizza (there is a lot of talk about pizza). In step with the aforementioned formula, A Quiet Place: Day One alternates scenes of so-so creature suspense with moments marking the growing kinship between Samira and Adam. New director Michael Sarnoski—who directed the surprisingly gentle Nicolas Cage revenge film Pig—would seem to be well-suited for both modes, yet the action scenes are lacking the Spielberg-lite slickness managed by John Krasinski, who helmed both A Quiet Place and A Quiet Place Part II, and the emotional moments have a limited impact, largely because this pairing feels so random. (Sarnoski also wrote the script for Day One, based on a story he and Krasinski worked on together.) Still, the Samira-Eric dynamic does continue the intriguing exploration of gender roles that has been a throughline with all three movies, with Samira as the figure of hard-won resilience compared to the quivering Eric. There’s a vulnerability to A Quiet Place: Day One that’s rare in big, would-be blockbusters, a vulnerability that becomes increasingly potent as the movie winds towards its sacrificial climax. Bonus points, too, for a stirring last shot that I won’t spoil, except to say that it involves a nifty Nina Simone needle drop.
(6/27/2024)
