आलोचक समीक्षाएं

It completely stands on its own and almost serves as an argument for a franchise starter (please, don't) because the combinations of different couples from different cultures are endless. Those who are willing to roll with the changes are in for a hell of a bonkers treat.

The best horror remakes are not afraid to push the source material in new directions – exhibit a) The Thing; exhibit b) The Fly – and while Watkins’ movie is nowhere near the level of those masterpieces (few are), it’s shrewd, engrossing and pleasingly nasty.

The business of this story in both versions is suspense, and Watkins is very good at ratcheting screws . . . but also springs satisfying reversals and pay-offs.

While this might be a flashy, American production (courtesy of Blumhouse, behind the Insidious movies and Get Out), it’s also the distinctly observational work of a British writer-director. And then there’s McAvoy, delivering one of the most impressively repugnant performances of the year.

All the cast play their parts, but an off-the-leash McAvoy is a joy to behold, channeling the same twisted energy he mined for his addict-cop in Irvine Welsh adaptation Filth. Touching on issues of class and the rich-poor divide, the result is a top-notch British thriller that’ll scare the bejesus out of you.

It is McAvoy you will remember, because you won’t be able to forget his full-throttle performance.

James Watkins’s version easily justifies its independent existence, however. Four first-rate performances find new energies in the story. The shift in nationalities adds other interesting angles.

The film’s slow-burn pace is an asset, not a flaw. Speak No Evil works best when it focuses on the Americans’ escalating fears, and collapses near the end when the psychological horror story turns into a predictable potboiler. But for a good three-quarters of the way, this Blumhouse production is an entertainingly elevated genre piece.

This version of Speak No Evil, despite an effectively creepy performance from James McAvoy, grinds the unsettling contours of the original into gory, “Straw Dogs”-lite, home-invasion comeuppance pulp in a last act that’s exactly the sort of dragged-out predictable material Tafdrup sought to avoid.

There’s no mystery to Speak No Evil, and even less disquieting creepiness; instead, it’s a bludgeoning beast, epitomized by McAvoy’s Paddy.