Directed by Jonathan Milott and Cary Murnion
Written by Nick Morris, Ruckus Skye and Lane Skye
Starring Joel McHale, Kevin James and Lulu Wilson
Running time: 1 hour and 40 minutes
MPAA rating: R for strong bloody violence, grisly images, and language

by Samuel Antezana

A group of convicts led by a neo-nazi, Dominik (Kevin James), terrorize a young couple and their two kids after invading their lake home in search of a mysterious key. Little do they know that the eldest child, Becky (Lulu Wilson), has some serious built-up teen angst, fueled in-part by the recent death of her mother, causing her to fight back with the ferociousness of Kevin McCallister on steroids.

The director duo, made up of Jonathan Milott and Cary Murnion, describe Becky as “a twisted coming of age film, an ultra-violent Home Alone...It’s the kind of bloody escapist insanity we want to watch,” and bloody it is. I have yet to watch Milott and Murnion’s previous genre efforts, Cooties (2014) and Bushwick (2017), but if they are anywhere near as satisfyingly cathartic and gory as Becky, then I may have to do some serious rearranging to my to-watch list.

Fans of the horror genre have a lot to love here, from the gnarly practical effects and creative kills, to the cruel and manipulative performance that Kevin James turns in, who is a huge highlight on his own. Becky is a fast-paced exercise in seeing the bad guys get their just desserts, as well as a family drama with surprising depth, especially when getting into topics of grief, childhood depression and growing pains. As briefly mentioned, Kevin James kind of has a Vince Vaughn moment (those of you who have watched Brawl in Cell Block 99 know what I’m talking about), he brings a brewing intensity that makes him completely unrecognizable from the get-go, making him a baddie that you want to see get taken down in the worst way possible.

While James’ performance is noteworthy, Lulu Wilson steals the show as the titular Becky, a 13-year-old girl who is slowly coming to grips with the reality of her mother’s death and with her father’s (Joe McHale) decision to unite his family with that of his girlfriend, Kayla (Amanda Brugel) and her elementary-age son. Eerily enough, James and Wilson seem to be channeling the same burning hatred that drives their characters to do what they have to, albeit for different reasons. However, James never fully explodes into over-the-top violence, which you might expect from him as a villain, no, that is a delicious treat reserved for Wilson and her pencil-stabbing shenanigans in its fullest glory.

Interestingly enough, Milott and Murnion take a subversive approach when introducing the environments of Dominik and Becky before their paths cross. Becky’s school life is miserable, she is on the floor, looking up at a group of kids that are huddled around her, pointing down and making fun of her. This scene is intercut with a fist fight between inmates before the camera cuts to Dominik. He is walled in and walking around the recess area of a prison, passing a shiv to a member of his gang who then proceeds to stab a black inmate caught up in the chaos of the fight. No prison guard seems to notice this vicious attack, but we hear the voice of a woman bleeding into the prison yard with an uncharacteristically light warning, “Boys! Stop that before someone gets hurt!” and we are thrust back into Becky’s middle school, this time in the middle of two boys fighting up against some lockers. These precise cuts back and forth from prison and school aren’t difficult to interpret as an attempt to create a relation between the two: both are supposed to prepare their occupants for life, but that isn’t always the case, and many evil deeds (in the case of Dominik) and moments of victimization (in the case of Becky) are left unchecked or simply ignored.

All of the comparisons between school and prison aren’t to say that Dominik wasn’t already far gone before prison, but the systematic racism that he perhaps thrived off outside of prison was left unchecked and it continues to dominate his actions and even let him get away with some of the atrocities he commits while in prison. While not an inherently evil character, Becky has severe anger issues that stretch past any realm of teen angst; she is also detached from the world around her to the extent that we can see a hint of boredom in her eyes as she stares past her jeering classmates while lying on the floor. Is there a possibility for change for the two characters? Most decent human beings will dismiss Dominik because lets face it, he’s a racist nazi piece of shit, but almost all would agree that Becky could get through her mixture of anger and grief through therapy, especially at her young age. Here is where I believe one of the major underlying themes of the film lies: change, and if it’s possible for a girl who is capable of so much violence—to an even higher degree than the villain of the film—to come back from the trauma she’s experienced as well as the cruelty she has dealt?

Regardless of whether you want to read into the film as deeply as I tend to do with most of everything I watch, or if you want to enjoy it for what the directors say is “bloody escapist insanity,” Becky contains enough depth and strongly defined characters for the most serious of film goers to sink their teeth into, and enough bloody bits to keep gorehounds clamoring for more.

Available on demand and digitally June 5th.