The Purge Review

           Once were the days where daring masters like Paul Verhoeven or John Carpenter painted stark, biting portraits of humanity and futuristic America and its own peculiarities and the “what-if” possibilities that could happen. In "lamens" terms, they created speculative science fiction like no other filmmaker at the time. With his feature debut, writer and director James DeMonaco aims to create the same sense of social commentary on the state of both America and human beings. In 2022, The United States has adopted a new rule to battle with both unemployment and rime rate, and that comes to the deformed 12-hour period called “The Purge.” It’s quite simple: for 12 hours, all hell breaks loose, and it’s all completely legal. As the film lightly explores, humans are creatures with pent-up rage and anger, and to allow them to express it in glorious fashion is catharsis for American citizens -- to explore on all their dark impulses.  A wicked idea to explore on such a touchy topic like violence and human nature, especially in a genre film, no less. However, what starts out promising enough to invite many ideas and themes to be explored, results in a typical, cliche-ridden home invasion thriller. While desperately maintaining any sense of tone, it straddles the line of genre movie conventions and social commentary, it comes off as confused and sloppily done rather than focused and assured. The premise itself becomes irrelevant as it only serves as a justification for psychotic people to commit their crimes without persecution. This could happen any other day. The purge serves only as the film’s self-indulgent political backdrop without any moral implications.

    As the hour approaches, James Sandin (Ethan Hawke), a wealthy home security developer, prepares his family for the inevitable. In their ideal, upper-class neighborhood, as neighbors approach on assuring of yet another successful purge, Mary Sandin (Lena Headey) and her kids Charlie (Max Burkholder), a young, precocious nerd, and Zoey (Adelaide Kane), a young teen dating a significantly older boy, Henry (Tony Oller), all try to reassure themselves of the safety and sanctity their father provides. As the family does their best to keep themselves occupied during the night of mayhem, Charlie inexplicably disarms their house and lets in a bloodied wanderer (Edwin Hodge), who begs for sanctuary as he is being chased. Soon, they’re visited upon a huge party of purge participants, as their leader (Rhys Wakefield) so politely demands they hand over the stranger or they will quite simply, break in and murder everyone inside. With time running out, the Sandins try to figure out if they should turn into the monsters they intend on keeping out, and hand over the stranger, or try to stand their ground, and fight against the system they’ve so flourished upon.

                                                  

          For a premise that leaves more questions unanswered, it’s an interesting concept to explore and ponder. To have the freedom and commit whatever act of violence without any repercussions leaves to question the morality of humanity, and how violent we can be, and the cost of life to preserve such perks like low unemployment or crime rate. But what’s sad is that DeManaco seems more interested in keeping the moral dilemmas associated in trade for a cheap, run-of-the-mill, home invasion thriller that has been done far more better. We get everything: the creep behind one of our heroes, as they are oblivious to the fact; someone coming up from behind with the music crescendoing, only to be revealed as a jump scare; characters making moronic decisions that put everyone at risk for danger (I feel as though I’m beginning to sound more repetitive than the film is with the tropes), etc. Ultimately, all the allegorical messages become lost in this mundane, cheap thriller, more concerned with providing thrills than any contemplation on the issues at hand. What’s more insulting is how forced and contrived the ending is, as it tries to raise a question in greed and feeding off the weaknesses of others. Tonal consistency is the least of the film’s worries; with creepy intruders being menacing with their eerie masks and the moral conundrum of James surrendering a human life for the sake of his family, the premise becomes extraneous.

     Hawke is regrettably wasted, as the setup to his character paints an optimist, cheery, rich yuppie, who fully supports the purge, as he sells security systems. His change from higher-class father to hard boiled killer lacks any pathos, or mere understanding for what he does throughout. Only one scene signifies any inner turmoil, as he is conflicted whether to hand over the innocent man over to the faceless goons waiting outside. Lena Headey is simply there to react and be the nurturing figure in charge of keeping the family together (which she fails numerous times). Both Burkholder and Kane are resorted to being throwaway stock characters, and ultimately make the decisions that further the dangers for all the family. Without any exploration into their psyche or resonance, they become walking figures, ready to be put in peril for the sake of “amping up” the film. Particularly Zoey’s boyfriend, who decides to express his true love for her in an illogical, completely inane scene that is never brought up for discussion (why). The only semblance of any character is Wakefield’s Bateman-esque delightful, gentleman personality as the leader for this deranged entourage of killers. With only his menacing smug plastered on screen for a good portion, it’s safe to say the creepy theatrics wear off momentarily

                                                 

     Despite a rather thrilling third act, in which the villainous creeps finally break in, forcing the family to fend them off in the most brutal, crowd-pleasing fashion, all the self-importance subtext is tossed aside. It struts along a tone of both social commentary and home invasion thriller, that it ultimately fumbles and embarrasses itself before regaining any mobility. It’s rather disappointing than angering to see such rich ideas and moral complexity being replaced with a generic plot that it could have had both, and kept its dignity. It’s a traitor-made crowd flick without any much enjoyment to be had. If any personal cleansing can come from the purge, then DeManaco certainly doesn’t show it, rather have it beaten into us by the very same family squeamish around violence. The Sandins exemplify pure 101 horror movie cliche-ness that it’s surprising in this future, people aren’t more keenly smarter than the average citizen. Alas, once the body meter count starts and the axe-welding begins, it’s probably best to sweep it under the rug, lest the film actually provoke any conversation.

                                                     D by Amritpal Rai