Thoroughbreds

The line separating thrillers and horror films is razor thin. In the case of Cory Finley’s feature debut, Thoroughbreds, the former fits more suitably than the latter, but to take a page from Potter Stewart, I know horror when I see it, and Thoroughbreds toes that line with macabre confidence. The film isn’t particularly frightening, but makes up for that with suspense to harrow the soul. Thoroughbreds rattles us by pitting posh cultivation against human nihilism: When you’re scared, you tend to be scared in the moment. When you’re rattled, there’s no telling how long you’ll stay that way. That’s Thoroughbreds in a nutshell: A sobering, beautiful movie that’ll haunt you for weeks after watching it.
Lily (horror queen ascendant Anya Taylor-Joy) is the epitome of high breeding: Impeccably dressed and made up, unflappably well-mannered, academically accomplished with a bright future ahead of her. Amanda (Olivia Cooke) is her polar opposite, a social outcast, friend to no one, possessed of a barbed tongue and a caustic temperament. They’re childhood chums who became estranged from one another over years, an everyday occurrence spurred by an incident involving Amanda’s family horse and an act of casual butchery. That all happens in the film’s past tense. In its present tense, the girls reconnect, Lily acting as Amanda’s tutor, and as they do the latter begins to rub off on the former and draw out her dark side.
Don’t mistake Amanda for a monster, per se. Cold as she is, she’s amoral rather than straight-up evil, and further to her credit the feelings she brings out in Lily are pre-existing. Turns out that Lily has a troubled relationship with her stepdad, Mark (Paul Sparks), meaning she harbors secret fantasies of killing him. After we make first introductions, we understand why: At best he’s aloof, and at worst he’s patriarchal bordering on abusive. (“Bordering” here is generous. Any number of proclamations he makes to Lily could be qualified as emotional abuse.) Usually you’d expect your former BFF to judge you, and judge you hard, for admitting that you’d kinda sorta really like to bump off your dad. Amanda, for all her faults, not only spares Lily her scrutiny, she shows understanding, too.
When you’re a determined sociopath, understanding is a tricky thing, less the product of empathy than mathematical logic. Mark is a bastard; Lily’s life is made harder by Mark and his bastardly ways. Remove Mark from the equation and Lily’s life improves, so Amanda endorses her desire to murder Mark and together they start plotting the perfect crime, Hitchcock style. They plan. They scheme. They even hire muscle, a wannabe drug kingpin named Tim (Anton Yelchin), which is just about the worst name for a tough guy dope dealer this side of “Bob.” All the while their bond strengthens day by day as they move closer toward their endgame. Think of Thoroughbreds as Heathers by way of a Park Chan-wook film, and you’ve pretty much got its tone and atmosphere down.