Family Dynamics at the End of the World: The Arcadian Review

The term "elevated horror" has become an easy shorthand for a specific kind of movie: carefully composed, often static shots, movie stars operating at a low register, a very clear central metaphor, and, usually, a monster that dwells just offscreen, which saves budget and brings in the audiences that don't like being scared. This newly coined genre hasn’t yet become so saturated as to be ineffective, but when you see a trailer for a horror movie lately, you can reasonably tell at a glance what you're in for.

Arcadian, which recently had its world premiere at SXSW, seems to follow that mold at first glance. Nicolas Cage stars as Paul, the father of two sons: the quiet and contemplative Joseph (Jaeden Martell) and the eager-to-prove-himself Thomas (Maxwell Jenkins). In an unspecified near future, the family lives on a farmhouse with ironclad rules: be back before sunset. Check the locks on the doors and close the windows. Hold the doors when someone or something tries to get in at night.

There's a familiar tone and style to the film as it introduces its world and characters that almost borders on generic. Thomas is pushing the limits on his days out, infatuated with Charlotte (Sadie Soverall), a girl living at a nearby farmhouse. Joseph is introspective and curious about the state of the new world. Paul's just trying to keep his family safe. But what really sets Arcadian apart is its willingness to follow through on the promise of the film's premise. There is something out in the woods that comes at night, and where lesser films would double down on the family drama and keep things vague, director Ben Brewer goes all in by showcasing the creatures in multiple glorious setpieces. Brewer teases out the mystery of what these creatures are and what they can do just long enough to make their onscreen reveals feel like a nasty punchline. The audience and the characters discover and learn about the monsters at the same pace, giving the back half of the film a propulsive, almost collaborative energy. The audience is engaged by having access to the same information that the characters do, which invites speculation on how viewers would handle the same situation.

It becomes even easier to make that speculative jump when the monsters are so thoughtfully designed and vividly animated. In the Q&A after the screening, Brewer (who was part of the VFX team behind Everything Everywhere All at Once) mentioned that the designs came from his sculptor brother, Alex Brewer, and that he did some of the animating himself. Even more impressively, part of that animation was done on Blender, a free-to-use 3D computer graphics software that, to put it bluntly, you generally do not see used in movies released in theaters. Brewer clarified that Arcadian cost significantly less than Renfield's $65 million budget. It's proof that ingenuity and artistic prowess matter more than big budgets and fancy CGI tools, and the visual scope and ambition in Arcadian is a huge part of what makes the movie stand out among a sea of competitors.

But the film is not just about the CGI creatures—the human cast injects plenty of pathos into this post-apocalyptic world. It feels like public opinion is finally coming around to the idea that Cage is more than just a dynamic over-the-top actor, and in Arcadian, he brings a quiet, worried intensity to Paul. He's a good dad who understands that he can't control his sons so much as try to keep them safe in an unsafe world. Weaker films would see him respond to Thomas' rule-breaking with violence or ferocity, but Cage plays Paul as a deeply empathetic and tuned-in father. It's a delicate balance of a performance, and one that trusts the younger actors to carry the film without Cage playing the character at a higher register.

And that trust is borne out, as Martell and Jenkins feel legitimately like brothers onscreen. They have that unique, loving, almost-hostile brotherly energy immediately selling the idea that for over a decade, they've been living with mostly only each other for company. They fight, they make up, they tease, and they trust one another in a way that feels true to life. And while Soverall has the slightly tougher job of playing a character separate from, but still interconnected with, the central family, she's able to bring a hardened edge to Charlotte that nicely balances the boys' relative naivety. It's implied that she's been living with more (whatever passes for) wealth in this new world, but Soverall's layered performance hints at a more emotional backstory than the script might suggest.

It all comes together to make Arcadian so much more than the sum of its parts, pushing the film beyond its somewhat familiar conceit. Even when the film falters on a familiar trope—like Thomas and Charlotte's star-crossed lovers routine—the actors and Brewer's commitment to a breakneck pacing rights the ship once again. It's the type of low-budget film that feels high budget, an independent movie that's likely to live on as people explore Cage's filmography or get recommended as a horror movie with "really gnarly creature designs." But most of all, it's proof that with enough passion and creativity at hand, a film's budget doesn't need to limit a filmmaker's scope.