Review by Seth Troyer
Lucky, Shudder's latest original horror film, was written by its star Brea Grant. What at first appears to be a typical slasher quickly becomes a film that feels immediately personal for not only Grant but for all of the women involved in its production.
May (Grant) a self help author currently grappling with her next step, is attacked one night when a masked man breaks into her home. She and her husband eventually subdue him and once knocked unconscious the attacker mysteriously disappears in the blink of an eye. What is perhaps even more bizarre is the fact that her husband seems not only to be unfazed by the incident, but claims that this happens every night. To May’s horror, it turns out that her husband is telling the truth. Every night the killer returns and every night May is forced to fight for her life.
At first this may appear to be another shallow Groundhog Day or Twilight Zone riff, but there is a very clear message behind Lucky’s slasher madness. Early on, it becomes abundantly clear that the film's exaggerated scenario is trying to express what it can be like to be a non male living in a male dominated society. The horror in this film comes not only from the threat of male violence, but from the way it is explained away by the uncaring society our heroine finds herself in. It seems everyone around her is bored, or indifferent toward her plight, endlessly repeating what starts to feel like some kind of mantra: “this is just how things are.”
While most of the mechanics of this sci-fi scenario are wisely left ambiguous, as things progressed I began to wonder if everyone was in fact telling May the truth. Perhaps there is no great conspiracy; perhaps May has been in a state of absurd denial until quite recently. May’s floundering career as a self help author, which at first seemed like little more than plot filler, began to help illuminate this. May is not only surrounded by equally ignorant peers, but is also lost in a swirl of busy work, selling hollow “always look on the bright side” pick-me-ups. We can all be like May, smiling inside a burning house, until at last we have a moment of clarity and realize that the air we are breathing is actually smoke.
While in some respects I do agree with the common criticism that this film could have benefited from a bit more subtlety, I would challenge viewers (most likely male viewers who might dismiss this thing as being nothing more than a feminist rant on gaslighting) to dig deeper. While injustice against women is the film's most immediate and central concern, there is a lot here that is universal when it comes to what it has to say about the roles we all play in a world of injustice.
Just like we can all be in the dark about the harm that is being done to us, we can also find ourselves too proud or too afraid to admit when we are doing harm to others. I would challenge male viewers in particular to think more deeply about the husband and the other “reinforcer” characters in the film (some of which are women). These characters remind us that whether you are actively participating in violence and injustice, or are simply nodding your heads and saying, “this is just how things are,” you are helping to continue the cycle.
As with all genres of film over the last decade or so, horror has been making an effort to create more socially-minded statements. Lucky is far from being the masterpiece of this new wave of filmmaking. It lacks the power, urgency, and obviously the budget, of films like Get Out and Midsommar. On one hand, I find its ending to be a little disappointing and can't help feeling that with a more concise runtime this would have made for a truly amazing short film or an intense episode of Black Mirror. On the other hand, I do really appreciate the intimacy and personal feeling we get from Grant’s performance and sharp writing. It is undeniably exciting that more and more horror films are putting such emphasis on finding a deeper meaning amongst the chaos and darkness of everyday life.