I told myself before I saw “Knock at the Cabin” that I would write about an M. Night Shyamalan film without using the word “twist.” It didn’t work. But not for the reason you might think.
For better or for worse, the twist has been associated with Shyamalan’s work since “The Sixth Sense” hit theaters in 1999. Some are deftly deployed, some are clunkily handled, and some aren’t really twists at all. The specter of “The Sixth Sense” looms so large over Shyamalan’s work that sometimes, simple new story developments are made out to be complex revelations. But whether a Shyamalan movie has a twist or not, we’ve been trained to look for signs of one when experiencing his work. In his new film, “Knock at the Cabin,” Shyamalan uses that cultural expectation to his advantage.
Based on the novel “The Cabin at the End of the World” by Paul G. Tremblay, “Knock at the Cabin” is an apocalyptic thriller that zeroes in on human cost. A young child named Wen (Kristen Cui) is on vacation at a remote cabin with her parents, Eric (Jonathan Groff) and Andrew (Ben Aldridge). While she’s playing outside, she is approached by a strange man named Leonard (Dave Bautista). Leonard eventually frightens Wen enough that she runs back inside, but it’s too late. Leonard and a group of three other strangers take the family hostage before telling them that in order to prevent the end of the world, they must sacrifice one of their own.
Despite numerous red herrings, Shyamalan is surprisingly straightforward about where this story is headed, building a sense of impending doom through kinetic and tense filmmaking. “Knock at the Cabin” becomes less about looking for a twist and more about hoping for one while you wait for the inevitable to happen. Shyamalan seamlessly puts you in the mindset of this family of three, leaving you grasping at straws until the very end.
The conversation around Shyamalan gets so wrapped up in the twist aspect of his career, we often forget how capable a technical filmmaker he truly is. One of the best aspects of Shyamalan’s previous film “Old” is how he deploys the camera to create dread. “Old” is ostensibly a body horror film, but we’re primarily shown how terrible things are through the reactions of other characters. Shyamalan creates a sense of disorientation for the viewer by never fully showing us what’s going on and trusting his actors to deliver on the horror of the moment. This choice makes the moments where we do see the horror in all its glory all the more harrowing.
“Knock at the Cabin” takes this trick and runs with it. Shyamalan is thoroughly invested in keeping the film locked tight on characters and their reactions, effectively cutting us off from what may or may not be happening in the real world.
Conversations are framed with intense close ups, not just on Eric, Andrew, and Wen, but on the four intruders as well. Fear, anger, and sadness are reflected at such a close proximity and on such an acutely human level that the isolation of the cabin feels magnified tenfold. That remoteness allows the audience and the characters the luxury of keeping the truth of the apocalypse purposefully obscured.
The opening perfectly encapsulates this technique. Wen is the first character we meet, and we’re immediately buried in her perspective. She’s outside catching grasshoppers, and we look through her eyes as her collection jar, at the book where she records the names of her new friends, and eventually, at the strange man invading her oasis. When the camera shifts to Leonard’s perspective, it looms over Wen, accentuating both actors’ sizes and immediately setting the audience on edge. When the two begin talking, the camera flips back and forth between increasingly closer shots of Wen and Leonard’s faces. Every once in a while, Leonard will pull away from this intense connection, almost magnetically drawn to something brewing in the forest beyond, before Wen pulls him back. Already, the film is making a distinction between what’s waiting in the world at large and the insulation of the world of the cabin.
Bautista is an excellent stroke of casting, and delivers a calm, committed performance that further accentuates the truth of his crusade. Leonard’s size can’t be anything but terrifying to the diminutive Wen, but his styling – buttoned-up shirt, glasses – and his soft-spoken nature bely a gentleness beneath the menace. There’s something inherently trustworthy in the way Leonard presents himself, in the way he kneels down to put himself on Wen’s level, in the way he speaks to her as if she’s an equal. As an intruder, he catches you off guard. He’s apologetic, but staunch in his decision to carry out this mission. He’s different from his fellow intruders, Sabrina (Nikki Amuka-Bird) and Adriane (Abby Quinn), who are both anxious and unsure. He’s vastly different from Redmond (Rupert Grint), who is twitchy and disquieting, and represents one of the seeds of doubt you long to latch onto as an audience member.
A ways into the film, Andrew begins to believe that Redmond is a man who attacked him years earlier at a bar, and that this entire thing is an elaborate revenge plot. The truth of Redmond’s identity, however, doesn’t ultimately matter. What makes the film an achievement is how through imminent despair it keeps you latching on to the barest of threads, convincing yourself you’re wrong about the outcome despite how evenly everything is laid out. Shyamalan reminds you where this is ultimately headed time and time again, whether it be a flash of light in the mirror, or a character positioned as the literal angel on the shoulder of another. All of the evidence is there, yet much like the characters you’re watching, you don’t trust it until it’s right in your face.