Weapons

Perhaps its narrative blades could have been sharper, but Weapons is never dull as a taut and stylish tale of suburban terror.

This sharply crafted and consistently unsettling thriller from director Zach Cregger (Barbarian) turns a chilling yet contrived premise into a plausible what-if scenario, with its discomfort rooted in real-life parental anxieties and paranoia.

The film opens with the sudden disappearance of 17 young children from a Pennsylvania neighborhood, who all fled their homes at 2:17 a.m. on the same night — running at full speed with their arms fully extended.

They’re all in the same classroom of bewildered elementary school teacher Justine (Julia Garner), who’s as confused as everyone else. However, with the angry community needing a scapegoat, she’s the easiest target for ostracism and blame.

As Justine indulges in alcohol while determined to prove her innocence, subsequent intertwined chapters shift the perspective to others connected to the kids and the search for truth.

They include a parent (Josh Brolin) who fears the worst, the investigating cop (Alden Ehrenreich) who’s drawn to Justine, the school principal (Benedict Wong) caught in the middle, a socially awkward child (Cary Christopher) who is the only remaining student in Justine’s class, and a junkie (Austin Abrams) who stumbles into some clues.

With each of them haunted by hallucinations, gradually the story transitions from a missing-persons probe into an exploration of something much more sinister.

At first, Cregger seems to want moviegoers to unravel the mystery alongside the characters, before we realize he’s engaging in some narrative gimmickry to preserve the darker and gorier twists for the final act.

However, such manipulation is effective as the film seamlessly weaves horror elements into a procedural framework, equally adept at jolting with jump scares as building intensity and suspense.

The film enhances its creepy atmosphere by effectively employing shadows, tracking shots, and misdirection. And it punctuates silent stretches with swelling kettledrums or other bass-level instrumentation.

There are some stumbles along the way. The episodic structure of Cregger’s screenplay can be frustrating with its distracting detours into ill-timed exposition, and the subtext about knee-jerk moral outrage feels muddled.

Ultimately, Weapons rewards patience as it ties everything together and starts answering its own questions before funneling into a deliriously twisted climax.

The film eventually exposes a hollow center beneath the surface frights, but by then, you’re trapped in its nightmarish vision.

Rated R, 128 minutes.