With Assaultfilmmaker Adam Windgard puts the monkey back in the box and returns to its knotty genre roots. Mr. Kongzilla returns to his You are next And The guest glory with what he calls a spiritual following: violent, conspiratorial and independent. Assault is a return to John Carpenter, Universal Soldierand blind rage slashers like a kill-them-all hybrid film that unleashes the respect of Wingardian horror fans. It’s the least of his killer trilogy, never living up to many outlandish promises, but Wingard is back to running amok without studio notes, and for that, we’re grateful.
Dr. Hans Kammler (a bald, crazy German scientist played by Dan Stevens) thinks he’s developed the perfect super commandos. Take broken veterans, remove their consciousness via cranial lobotomy, and reprogram them into psychotic, painless killing machines (like The Butcher, played by Brazilian MMA star Alex Pereira). But when Dr. Kammler’s wild subjects escape confinement, all hell breaks loose in a New Mexico trailer park. Resident Director Celeste (Adria Arjona) draws on her skills as a former military sniper to mount a counter-defense, determined to protect her daughter Daisy (Blake Kennedy) from the soulless thugs who murder everyone in sight.
Wingard directs another script from Simon Barrett that begins in a captivating and strange manner. Stevens resembles a Nazi Ebenezer Scrooge (this European cover of “Paint It Black” appears in the background), who is shown getting on all fours and licking his wife’s high heels like a good boy (Rebecca Hall as his domineering mom). Drew Starkey plays a professional cleaner who takes MDMA after his private visit to a BDSM club is interrupted by a mistake by Kammler. Eric Wareheim plays a nincompoop sheriff who might as well have come out of a Tim & Eric sketch. It’s all very weird at first and very entertaining, but in the end, Assault is never as collectively goofy or self-indulgent as these earlier previews insinuate.
Arjona is clearly our “Final Girl” from the start, with her background tying into a broader commentary about soldiers haunted by PTSD flashbacks and how the government manipulates serving and retired ranks. Wingard doesn’t shy away from the tragic themes of war, particularly how the conflicts shatter almost everyone involved, but his finale abandons the more serious impacts. Barrett’s ideas build a world torn apart by VHS actioners from the 80s and 90s, where experiments go wrong and the hero must kick everyone’s ass, while the payoffs of the third act are woefully underdeveloped. There are plenty of Kammler’s GI Michael Myers mercenaries only to have the titular assault over before it begins. It’s as if Wingard fell in love with his film’s hook before plotting it all out, and relied on peppery tropes to see it all through.
That said, Assault is quite a pleasant ride. The sum of its parts is a lot of fun, even if they sell the action-horror vibes short. It’s easy to sympathize with Arjona as a troubled and trying single mother, while fighter mode brings out the badasses by the handful. It’s a movie that leaves us wanting more, and yet we still get a larger-than-life chainsaw (Mandy style), Reginald VelJohnson as the lovable trailer park elder, bursts of gratuitous violence and Wareheim’s wacky shenanigans. Wingard wants to go crazy, but settles for Grindhouse Lite. Perhaps a sign of having to work within constraints, since the experience feels thin even at a manageable 93 minutes.
Style goes a long way Assaultwhich is dirty. Composer Matt Pusti delivers a rousing impression of Carpenter with his sinister CG score, while Oren Soffer’s cinematography is steeped in the sun-baked deserts of Albuquerque (where filming took place). Wingard uses this middle-of-nowhere ambiance to accentuate the fears of a community fending for itself, unaware of the classified installation miles to the north. The arid environment of small-town America presents a wonderful The last Stand a bit of a gimmick, because who doesn’t like it when neighbors unite against a common evil?
But Assault I can’t help but come across as stifled. This is the dominant complication. Wingard and Barrett cling to idiosyncratic details and invest in Celeste’s world only for not much to happen. The underlying evils relate to a very valid disregard for our current Cheeto-colored government, sensationalizing our reality where the National Guard and ICE departments are used to intimidate, attack, and kill American citizens. And yet, while there might be some catharsis in Celeste’s inevitable encounter with Kammler’s dead military demons—their glowing eyes piercing the midnight darkness—the film somehow ends.
Assault is one of those halfway films that deserves a positive thumbs up because when it’s fun, it’s really, really fun. It’s cheesy, bonkers, full of carnage, and a loving ode to the brutal brutality films that ruled syndication on networks like TNT and USA in the ’90s. As Wingard reintroduces non-franchise material, our boy has come home and is welcomed with open arms. The guest could act better, and You are next is a superior home invasion thriller, but Assault still deserves its praise as a simple but still effective deathmatch.
Music from the film: 3/5
