REVIEW: A Quiet Place Part II

 

It must have been early 2020 when post-production wrapped on John Krasinski's A Quiet Place part II, a film that opens in flashback as we see a community descend in real-time into global mayhem. We see the Abbot family in their final moments of naive bliss before the alien monsters lay waste to the human population. Had this movie premiered in theaters on its original release date last spring, this overture might have been just a clever segue between this film and its wildly successful 2018 predecessor. 

But for this weekend's audience, many of which are returning to the theater for the first time since the pandemic eradicated public living, this scene is just short of traumatizing, a mirror to how rapidly our own sense of social equilibrium unraveled before our eyes. How naive, indeed, we were to underestimate the fragility of the social fabric that permits such frivolous pastime as ritual theatergoing.

The narrative proper begins minutes after the conclusion of the first film. The Abbots have gained one member and lost another, and their sanctuary has been wrecked by the latest monster attack. Their only option now is to step off the sand path and try to find life out in the real world. They've survived this long with clever tricks and security measures. If they're going to last much longer, they'll need a renewed sense of purpose and confidence to pierce through their world of fear.

The most unique strength of the first film was its interest in eliciting emotions from the audience outside the narrow range of fear or terror--you cried as much as you screamed. This movie graciously continues that tradition owing in large part to the exceptional cast who endear the audience to them every moment they are onscreen. Returning cast members Emily Blunt, Noah Jupe, and Millicent Simmons turn their characters into carriers of light in a world drowning in the shadow of global invasion.

The surviving Abbots in this film are joined by Emmet (Cillian Murphy), an old family friend they haven't seen since before the dark times. Murphy brings his usual brooding affect to the table while tempering it with the flickering spark of humanity you'd expect from someone helping another person for the first time in years. 

A part of me also wonders if Murphy's character might have had more punch had he been more defined. His diatribe on human indecency in the wake of the apocalypse is one of his defining characteristics, but his explanation for why is buried under a few lines of dialogue. But in fairness, the Abbots in the first movie were themselves little more than archetypes, so we'll give him a pass.

If the film does have a flaw, it's that it tries to do a little too much. The mantra of "there are people out there worth saving" advertised in the trailers feels more like a means to an end, an excuse to take the camera outside the Abbots' neck of the woods. While the film does sample some of the diverging ways people have responded to the apocalypse, the meditation on human nature adds to little more than background noise against the movie's true interest. I too wondered what the neighbors were up to while the Abbots were playing high-stakes marco-polo in the cornfield, but now that I see it I'm mostly just reminded of how the story of the Abbots was compelling enough to carry its own movie.

Among the more prominent features borrowed from the first film is a musical track that played during scenes like Lee's great and final sacrifice for his kids. Three years ago, this musical motif spoke to a deep sense of loss and aimlessness felt by the Abbots during a time of blanketed anxiety. With the intervening maturation of the characters, the film property, and a world emerging from global lockdown, it takes on a different meaning.

Despair and hopelessness give way to something different. Aching loss melts into quiet serenity. The lament becomes a hymn to a family persevering during a time of crisis. Maybe we'll be okay.

--The Professor

Read my analysis of the first film here.