Weapons Review: A Midnight Horror Magnolia

After the breakout success of Barbarian, Zach Cregger could’ve easily coasted with another claustrophobic shocker. Instead, he returned swinging with Weapons, a sprawling horror epic that transforms a Pennsylvania town into ground zero for something far more sinister than anyone imagines. It’s the kind of ambitious project you don’t expect from someone whose earliest credit is acting in the raunchy comedy Miss March, but Cregger has clearly evolved into a filmmaker playing the long game.

When seventeen third-graders vanish simultaneously at 2:17 AM, leaving behind only confused parents and one classmate, the incident becomes the centerpiece for an intricate puzzle box that gradually reveals itself as supernatural nightmare. We follow teacher Justine Gandy (Julia Garner, Wolf Man), grieving father Archer Graff (Josh Brolin, Dune), and troubled officer Paul Morgan (Alden Ehrenreich, Solo: A Star Wars Story). Their stories and more weave together like a tapestry dark with dried blood. Does the remaining classmate, young Alex (Cary Christopher) have information as to what happened?  And what of the mysterious  Gladys (Amy Madigan, Antlers), whose true nature threatens not just the missing children but the entire town?

Cregger demonstrates remarkable growth as a filmmaker, moving light-years beyond his comedy origins with The Whitest Kids U’ Know. Barbarian showed flashes of brilliance before stumbling in its final act. Weapons maintains precarious balance for most of its 128-minute runtime. His decision to structure the film as a nonlinear riddle, jumping between characters whose stories intersect and converge, pays off brilliantly as each revelation adds another disturbing layer to an increasingly perplexing picture.

The ensemble cast delivers across the board. Garner proves excellent as the wrecked teacher trying to maintain her humanity while facing community blame. Brolin taps into the sorrow and rage of a parent with nothing left to lose, creating a performance that feels both grounded and dangerously desperate. Ehrenreich keeps you guessing as a man battling personal demons in a town gone sideways. But it’s Madigan who deserves a place in horror canon, going full tilt in a role that demands both mystery and menace. There’s specfic moments when the performance shifts into territory that will make you clutch your armrest in white-knuckle fear.

Larkin Seiple’s cinematography handles both intimate character moments and large-scale horror setpieces with equal sophistication. He shoots the Pennsylvania town in soft greys and bruised blues, with shadowy interiors that throb with menace. Dream sequences feel like half-remembered folktales, while real-world horror unfolds with jarring stillness that makes every scare land harder. Tom Hammock’s production design gives minimal locations tactile, occupied eeriness, while Trish Summerville’s costume work smartly defines the town’s social structure through clothing choices that hint at hidden stories.

The musical landscape proves equally effective. Brothers Ryan and Hays Holladay, working alongside Cregger himself, compose a score that pulses under the film like a buried heartbeat. The opening moments, underscored by George Harrison’s “Beware of Darkness,” hit like a warning shot, while the end credits close with a haunting original track from MGMT that lingers long after the lights come up.

Where Barbarian felt somewhat insular, Weapons demonstrates Cregger’s growing confidence by expanding scope to encompass an entire community. The scares prove ridiculously frightening, often achieved through disturbing images that linger slightly longer than comfortable, or through editor Joe Murphy’s decision to cut them into unexpected freak flashes that give the movie extra intensity. The horror feels grisly and cerebral. But it’s the despair and helplessness that really lingers after the credits roll.  Comparisons to Stephen King’s IT aren’t far off the mark. This is another town haunted by a flame-haired monster with a voracious appetite.

From a cultural perspective, it’s hard not to see Weapons as a reflection of post-truth paranoia and our increasing inability to trust institutions—or each other. The community turns on Justine not because of evidence, but because someone must be blamed. When logic fails, fear fills the gaps, and the film doesn’t need to shout its message because you feel it crawling up your spine throughout.  Mob mentality becomes a horror of its own, though its not something Cregger is as concerned on tracking as he is focused on the pure horror of his creative narrative.

The term “elevated horror” gets thrown around carelessly, but Weapons earns the designation through its emphasis on psychological depth and thematic richness over traditional scare tactics. (It’s not above throwing in a jump scare every now and then, though.) Like other standout 2025 horror offerings including Companion and Sinners, it pushes genre boundaries while delivering genuine frights. This represents scary, well-built filmmaking that takes aim at your nerves and rarely misses its mark.

Weapons may not be flawless. Its ambition occasionally exceeds its grasp, and the finale teeters between mythic seriousness and gonzo ridiculousness. But it cements Cregger as a filmmaker willing to challenge audiences. It’s scary, strange, and surprisingly soulful, confidently earning its place among the year’s best horror offerings and announcing that some directors are just getting started.