The Purge is a sharp social satire that dilutes its potency with each gun it pulls out. The movie takes place in an alternate America, circa 2022, where “New Founding Fathers” have declared that citizens can maim and murder at will, with no legal ramifications, for one designated day each year. The result, according to the film’s opening title sequence: “Unemployment is at 1%. Crime is at an all-time low. Violence barely exists.” Channeling collective rage within a contained 12 hours seems to be the key to peace and prosperity. But whose peace and prosperity? Certainly this system works for James Sandin (Ethan Hawke), who has made a monetary killing by selling fortress-like security systems to affluent families like his. Normally, this makes “purge day” something they watch from the comfort of their locked-down homes. But this year things go awry when Sandin’s son (Max Burkholder) lets a terrified, bedraggled, and beaten stranger (Edwin Hodge) into their house during purge hours. The stranger’s bloodthirsty pursuers—well-off suburbanites like the Sandins, enjoying their own most dangerous game—demand that the Sandins release him, or else. Hawke, delving into his despicable side, is more than willing to follow his character to the end of the evil line; as long as The Purge, written and directed by James DeMonaco, carries the same convictions it’s a nasty piece of prophetic work. As Sandin instinctively wants to give the stranger up, even urging his wife (Lena Headey) to stick a letter opener in the man’s open wound as they struggle to subdue him, the movie piercingly paints a portrait of what those on top will do to preserve their place. Unfortunately, the film’s second half—in which the Sandins bust out their personal artillery to fend off the preppy invaders—necessarily glorifies the very sort of violence The Purge means to question. Is bloodshed the answer, or not?
(6/25/2022)
