Villains

Villains feels like the sort of film the Coen Bros. might make if they were snowed in at a friend’s ski lodge for a long weekend, keeping the cameras rolling in an effort to stave off cabin fever. It has a loose, almost careless sort of feel to it—a combination of thriller, home invasion horror and dark comedy that feels both occasionally charming and admittedly overfamiliar. It’s meant to thrive almost solely on its performances, which it does—to an extent. But it never aspires to much, beyond providing a quick-moving 88 minutes. It’s the poster child for low-stakes but generally entertaining indie thrillers.

Villains is essentially a film of four characters, which comprise two couples: One in their 20s, and one ambiguously middle aged. Our viewpoint characters are young lovers on the run, Mickey (Bill Skarsgård) and Jules (Maika Monroe), who begin the film by knocking off a convenience store in particularly bumbling fashion, revealing the characters’ relative lack of competence and composure—as does the fact that they immediately run out of gas before getting far from the scene of the crime. These two are obnoxious goofballs, frequently drawing inspiration from quick bumps of cocaine. It’s painfully clear that they’re out of their depth, having seemingly drawn their personas from too many bad movies in the vein of Bonnie and Clyde. Never is it truly clear whether they genuinely love each other, or whether they’re each simply overenthusiastic and deluded about the “romantic” scenario of going on the run with a partner as a pair of legendary outlaws. If the script casually mentioned that they’d known each other for a month or two, it would be easy to believe, as Jules and Mickey seem particularly susceptible to sudden, snap decisions.

Contrast that with George (Jeffrey Donovan) and Gloria (Kyra Sedgwick), a pair of seemingly innocuous, middle-aged homeowners whose house Mickey and Jules decide to ransack in search of alternative transportation. They’re meant to give off a particular vibe of Midwestern vacuousness, but for the discovery of something that throws a spanner into the works—there’s a little girl chained up in the basement. And really, that’s all we need for 88 minutes of conflict, as Mickey and Jules take it upon themselves to become the heroes and “lesser of two evils” in this scenario. It’s a set-up we’ve seen in numerous films before: Petty criminals run up against serious criminals, delivered with a puckish tone and no shortage of gallows humor.

Of the leads, it’s Skarsgård and Donovan who stand out favorably. Monroe is a likable presence, and we’re eager to see the It Follows actress land more starring roles, but she seems a bit out of her depth here in the film’s more comic material, as if she’s struggling to lend truth to a character who isn’t supposed to be particularly bright. Skarsgård, best known for scaring the bejesus out of a new generation of coulrophobics as Pennywise in Andy Muschietti’s It, handles that same challenge with more naturalism, pulling off the film’s more memorably goofy dialog, as when he assures Jules that “your tongue is really strong; it’s a great, strong tongue” as he prepares to rip out a tongue stud to use as a lockpick. His squirrelly energy is put to good use here.