Whenever the (stupid) question would come up, I'd always be quick to say, without a doubt, deaf. I need to be able to see, so if I had to, I'd much rather be unable to hear (shit, at work? this would be a luxury).
But Monday night, after watching yet another home-invasion movie, this time featuring a victim that can't hear? Well, ask me again: Would you rather be deaf or blind?
Go ahead. Ask me.
Would you - Stop. You're going to have to write it down. Or sign it. *points to ear* I can't hear you.
Seriously, f--k being blind. That shit is terrifying.
Hush, recommended to me by my super-knowledgeable best friend (forever, rate-hikes be damned) Netflix, is a f--king blast. Coming in at a boner-inducing 79 minutes, director Mike Flanagan's flick takes a familiar plot line and knocks it on its (non-functioning) ear.
Entirely eliminating sound from the equation drastically elevates the tension of a fairly typical home-invasion movie to a level previously unheard of (Okay...I think that's the last of them).
On paper Hush should have been just awful, and on that poster it might be even worse, but on film it's so good. Bloody good, in fact.
Maybe it's the 79 minutes talking, but, uh, hear me out (okay, now I'm done), okay? Up-and-coming mystery author Maddie isolates herself in her beautiful home...in the woods, in order to complete her latest novel. With her cat Bitch (ugh) by her side, not to mention a slew of the finest devices Apple has ever produced, Maggie attempts to narrow down one of the seven endings she's cooked up for her latest novel. And after a visit from Sarah Next Door (again, ugh), she begins to do just that.
Until a masked freak shows up, threatening to kill her face. Well, and the rest of her too.
Well, not quite actually, as this psycho f--ker has strongly committed to torturing Maggie first. Of course he does. I mean, this movie's already short-enough, so cut this sick prick some slack, okay? Maybe he gets college credit for murdering people and really needs the hours. Whatever the reason, why this lunatic is up for cross-bowing the shit out of Maggie is the real problem. As it's anybody's guess, really. Outside of some creepy tally marks, it seems like a random murder.
Uh, assuming he gets the job done...
Hardly ever completing any task, psychotic or not, are the Yays and Boos. Dumb (and lazy) as they are, you still shouldn't turn your back on them. Apparently, they've already invaded thousands of homes. In fact, there in yours now! (Unless, you're on the bus...or work. Or pooping in a public restroom...not that anyone does that)
After letting this one simmer in my (mostly-functional) brain for a couple of days, I'm certainly willing to recommend Hush. The performances are solid, the action intense and the violence extremely impressive. And, all things considered, it can be pretty f--king unnerving. So much so, there were times I couldn't take my eyes off it.
My (mostly-functional) eyes, thank you very much.
But Monday night, after watching yet another home-invasion movie, this time featuring a victim that can't hear? Well, ask me again: Would you rather be deaf or blind?
Go ahead. Ask me.
Would you - Stop. You're going to have to write it down. Or sign it. *points to ear* I can't hear you.
Seriously, f--k being blind. That shit is terrifying.
Entirely eliminating sound from the equation drastically elevates the tension of a fairly typical home-invasion movie to a level previously unheard of (Okay...I think that's the last of them).
On paper Hush should have been just awful, and on that poster it might be even worse, but on film it's so good. Bloody good, in fact.
Maybe it's the 79 minutes talking, but, uh, hear me out (okay, now I'm done), okay? Up-and-coming mystery author Maddie isolates herself in her beautiful home...in the woods, in order to complete her latest novel. With her cat Bitch (ugh) by her side, not to mention a slew of the finest devices Apple has ever produced, Maggie attempts to narrow down one of the seven endings she's cooked up for her latest novel. And after a visit from Sarah Next Door (again, ugh), she begins to do just that.
Until a masked freak shows up, threatening to kill her face. Well, and the rest of her too.
 |
| Oh, Sarah Next Door. I actually really, really liked this character. And her boyfriend? What a hunk. |
Uh, assuming he gets the job done...
Hardly ever completing any task, psychotic or not, are the Yays and Boos. Dumb (and lazy) as they are, you still shouldn't turn your back on them. Apparently, they've already invaded thousands of homes. In fact, there in yours now! (Unless, you're on the bus...or work. Or pooping in a public restroom...not that anyone does that)
 |
| Yeah, no thanks. We're good. (this is something you shoot until you run out of bullets...) |
Yaaaaaaaaay!
- Early on, we get to see Maggie scroll through some texts...from August 9th, 2016. So, does Hush now qualify as science fiction?
- Look at it. Look at it again. That f--king mask is creepy as f--k.
- So...Creepy Guy? Well, not only is his constant skulking about rather unsettling, but this asshole has the nerve to just walk the f--k in Maggie's house...and...just stand there. F--k that. Cut off my head and use it as f--kin' basketball, fine. But loitering? Awesome in how unacceptable it is.
- Hey, look an e-mail. Aww, it's got pictures. Of me. Currently. *shudder*
- Even though it's entirely uncalled for, let me put my hands together for knocking on a window...with a corpse's hand. That's some hardcore puppeteering, right?
- At one point, Maggie throws her badass flashlight a quarter mile into the woods. This was momentarily a smart plan. Well, only because that was the moment before her thigh had a f--king arrow in it.
- Straight up, no bullshit, John might be my favorite movie character ever. Who would have thought the bad guy's worst nightmare would be soooo dreamy.
- I need to up my writing game for sure. You know, maybe even make a dollar...or two. Then my house might be adorned with the greatest glass windows in the history of the universe.
- And finally, this movie, when it wants to be, is insanely f--king brutal. Not like, pull out a tendon and wear it like a bolo-tie level of sick shit, but more of a holy f--king shit that would hurt like Hell depiction of violence and trauma. I'm still shaking my hand after that door scene. Shit. That made the sledgehammer scene in Misery look like something you could put a little Robitussin on.
 |
| Why would anyone want to kill this woman? said everyone, except the writer of Hush |
Booooooooooooo!
- Nothing I love more than a mantle full of pictures...taken no more than a week ago.
- I get it, but good God, fire alarms for deaf people are so frickin' intense. Shit, I'd probably die of a heart-attack before the fire got me.
- I'm all for overachieving, but I think 17 stabs is enough. Any more, and you're just being a dick.
- AAAAHHHH! Oh, it was just the cat. Um, f--k cats.
- Can you e-mail the police? No really, I think I need to know this.
- Okay, serious time...hiding from murderous a-holes is always the worst (you know, when you have to stop staring at them), but not hearing them moving (presumably) toward you? SO MUCH WORSE. And, AND! Maggie is totally a fan of taking her eyes off of him.
- Maggie tries to flash the lights of her car as a distraction....but she's out range for her key. m. brown's Protip: If your car is too far away to open the doors, set off the alarm or whatever, point the key thingy under your chin. It will totally boost the range. I'm serious. Some guy showed me this trick in college. Whether or not his brain is a mess of tumors, is unknown, but it works...trust me.
- If there's one thing I really don't want entering my forearm, yep, you guessed it: a f--king hammer.
- If I was trapped in my house by a murderous c-nt, and I somehow managed to escape, there's likely one thing I wouldn't do. Go back in the f--king house.
- So, loading a cross-bow is apparently no f--king joke. Goodness.
- That's quite the neck tattoo, Officer.
- F--k that rock scene. Hard.
- And finally, while I ultimately appreciated it, this dude is the T-100 of psychotic douchebags. Go down, man. Damn.
My (mostly-functional) eyes, thank you very much.