Abigail — Ballet, Rivers of Hemoglobin, and the Worst Nightmare of a Discount Kidnapping Gang

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At Claqueta Ácida, we love it when commercial cinema decides to let its hair down, get its hands dirty, and fill the screen with liters and liters of analog blood. That's why the return of the Radio Silence collective (Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, directors of Ready or Not and the meritorious reboots of Scream) with Abigail (2024) was a stimulating slap of macabre fun, classic suspense, and hyperbolization of the vampire slasher. Escaping the languid and serious intimacy of other contemporary productions, the American duo gave birth to a festive and energetic work that takes the classic gothic tale of the aristocratic bloodsucker and transforms it into a bloody game of cat and mouse where the monster wears a tutu and ballet shoes.

The plot begins with a meticulously planned kidnapping: a group of amateur and disconnected thugs is hired by a shady intermediary (Giancarlo Esposito) to kidnap a twelve-year-old girl, Abigail (Alisha Weir), the daughter of a powerful and enigmatic underworld magnate in New York. After drugging the girl in Seoul, the gang transports her to a gigantic and uninhabited Gothic-style mansion on the outskirts, where they will have to guard her for twenty-four hours until they collect a juicy ransom. But the supposedly easy plan goes awry when the mansion is hermetically sealed, and the thugs discover in horror that the docile and frightened girl in a tutu is actually an ancient and ruthless vampire monster with an unusual elasticity and an insatiable thirst for human flesh.

The direction of Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett is noteworthy, as they manage to balance black comedy with suspense and horror, creating a unique and exciting atmosphere. The cinematography by Aaron Morton is also notable, highlighting the intense reds of the artificial blood jets and the luminous contrast of the white ballet shoes, giving the film a clean and punchy visual aesthetic. The editing is fast and dynamic, contributing to the sense of excitement and energy that permeates the film.

The soundtrack is another standout aspect of the film, with an intelligent use of classical music, such as Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, to create an ironic and entertaining contrast with the violence and horror unfolding on screen. The performances of the cast are also noteworthy, especially Alisha Weir, who convincingly transforms from a helpless girl to a sadistic twelve-year-old monster.

The Macabre Dance of the Vampire Ballerina and the Festive Massacre

What consecrates Abigail as an inescapable green dog in the contemporary commercial landscape is its absolute lack of shame and its unconditional love for the gore spectacle. The film takes its time in the first half to introduce us to the kidnappers, building a classic mystery thriller with a hint of classic horror in a haunted house. But as soon as Abigail reveals her true biological identity, the film becomes an unleashed bloody rollercoaster, where the action sequences choreographed to the rhythm of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake by the little vampire ballerina massacring the thugs result in a visually macabre and comedic plasticity.

Radio Silence's staging takes advantage of the majestic mansion's rooms, with their baroque decor, dark corridors, and dusty libraries covered in oil portraits. The violence is hyperbolic and festive: there are vampire explosions by stakes, brutal bites to the jugular, and delightful analog amputations, achieving a perfect balance between black comedy and siege thriller.

The appearance of Dan Stevens as a pathetic villain is another highlight of the film, offering a hilarious interpretation full of tics, egocentrism, and comic pathos. The chemistry between the actors is palpable, and the gang's family dynamics work perfectly, although some profiles of the kidnapper group border on the excessively flat cliché.

Regarding the plot, it's interesting to note how the film plays with genres, combining elements of horror, comedy, and suspense effectively. The sealed Gothic mansion is a perfect setting for the plot's development, and the way the characters interact with each other and their environment is exciting and terrifying.

Atmosphere and Tension Analysis

The film's atmosphere is tense and exciting, with a rhythm that increases as the plot unfolds. The music and cinematography contribute to a sense of anxiety and fear, while the actors' performances and Radio Silence's direction keep the viewer on edge.

The tension builds up gradually, starting with the introduction of the characters and the situation, and increasing as the plot becomes more complicated and the characters are trapped in the mansion with the vampire monster. The way the film plays with expectation and surprise is effective, keeping the viewer interested and excited.

Cinematic Comparisons

Abigail can be compared to other horror and black comedy films, such as Shaun of the Dead or Tucker & Dale vs Evil. The way the film combines comedy and horror is similar to these movies, and the way violence and gore are presented is also similar. However, the film has a unique style and atmosphere that sets it apart from other films in the genre.

In terms of direction, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett can be compared to other horror and black comedy directors, such as Edgar Wright or Sam Raimi. The way they direct the film, combining comedy and horror, is similar to these directors, and the way violence and gore are presented is also similar.

The Best

• Alisha Weir's performance: Her transformation from a helpless girl to a sadistic twelve-year-old monster who dances and mocks her victims is a marvel of malicious charisma.
• The analog gore festival: A display of artificial blood and generous physical explosions that is refreshing in contemporary studio cinema saturated with digital effects.
• Dan Stevens as a pathetic villain: He offers a hilarious interpretation full of tics, egocentrism, and comic pathos.

The Worst

• Excessive footage in the final stretch: Its 109 minutes of duration are affected by a third act that unnecessarily prolongs the confrontation with a couple of repetitive narrative twists and betrayals.
• The stereotypical portrayal of the thugs: Although the gang's family dynamics work, some profiles of the kidnapper group border on the excessively flat cliché.

The Verdict of Claqueta Ácida (8/10)

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