(Mild Spoilers ahead)
Released in 1956, The Bad Seed is thought to be the first film of its kind to explore the idea of evil children. Since then, our screens have been inundated with bright-eyed and bushy-tailed killers, stalkers, demons, ghosts, and psychopathic aliens. This year has even seen the release of such high profile remakes as Pet Sematary and Child’s Play which fit this bill. Rosemary’s Baby and The Omen are perhaps the most well-known from the subgenre – the former never actually shows the physical manifestation of the titular infant, whereas Damien from the latter is a bona fide icon of innocence and terror. Both lean heavily into the fears of parenting and the prospect of raising a monster. Brightburn, directed by David Yarovesky, spawns in part from this tradition of movies, and so these themes are also present. However, though it is clearly inspired by them, comparing this film to the other two isn’t exactly fair. While all are exploitational films to varying degrees, Brightburn operates more as a neo-slasher with less on its mind.
The plot is familiar – some have said it is like the origin story of Superman were he less morally inclined – as at first we are introduced to an infertile couple (Elizabeth Banks and David Denman) who seemingly have their dreams answered when they take into their care a healthy newborn baby. Except the thing is, it crash landed next to their Kansas farm from space. Amazingly, there aren’t a lot of questions surrounding the arrival of this new addition to the Breyer household, and little Brandon (Jackson A. Dunn) is left to assimilate into the surrounding community, and seems to have a loving childhood (as made clear by a conveniently edited home video montage). A picture of a pseudo-regular mid-western existence – until Brandon turns 12 when things take a turn for the worse and his superhuman abilities start to reveal themselves.
As a big fan of James Gunn’s string of popcorn horror screenplays (the Dawn of the Dead remake and Slither are the highlights) I was intrigued to hear that his brother, Brian, and cousin, Mark, were going down a similar road having written this movie with a comparably punchy concept. Pigeonholed before its release as a superhero horror movie, I was curious as to whether it might be an antidote to the superhero fatigue, or if it would just act as an addendum – appendage? – to it. It turns out that whilst certainly providing small doses of the former, it simply isn’t as substantive enough to thoroughly do either. This isn’t to say that it isn’t entertaining, however. There is a dedication to gruesomeness, for instance, which doesn’t pander to any gore-averse audience members which at least shows a passion for the craft. To be clear, Brightburn is comprised of predominantly horror DNA, and if you came expecting horrifically creative death sequences then you should at least feel as though you have been catered to. In fact, one scene in particular, involving a shard of glass, I think will prove to be very memorable in the horror world thanks to the camera’s outright refusal of a cutaway at the standard moment.
Elizabeth Banks is also fantastic to watch – somehow always providing an air of authenticity no matter what role she plays – and gives a very convincing performance as the mum trapped in a nightmare situation. Her assuredness in initially defending her son is refreshing, and has a ring of optimism as it shows the transcendent love that a parent can have for their child irrespective of biological relation; in some ways it even celebrates the unwavering support that any parent can have for a child that is treated as an outcast. The rest of the cast also give good performances, with David Denman’s father character traversing a somewhat tricky emotional obstacle course with plenty of oedipal underpinnings. He is also the subject of a suitably creepy dream sequence towards the final act which serves as the film’s most memorable moment. Jackson A. Dunn as Brandon also deserves props considering his age – any film with child actors should surely earn respect for the director, too – and he pulls off the cold, emotionless look well as he stalks classmates and causes havoc on the playground. Unfortunately, though, the character does become a bit of an irritating nuisance like so many other killer kids in movies, mainly because of his unmitigated two dimensionality at times. This is a fault of the script, however, and not the actor.
This is where my main problem with Brightburn lies as I would have liked to see a bit more character development. For example, Brandon’s mantra “take the world” is a bit too reductive for me to invest further into the overall story. The motif of wasps does nicely hint at an alien invasion strategy – wasps are brood parasites, meaning they can use other species to raise their offspring – but the motivation behind it is not outlined. When viewed as a horror flick this lack of a mythology is more acceptable than if it were a more nuanced deconstruction of the superhero genre, but even so it would be nice to perhaps have some insight into Brandon’s home world, and have his internal conflicts and shifting loyalties fleshed out a bit more. This isn’t to say that I would have liked his entire backstory spelled out, but when you have Brandon eventually at the stage where he is systematically causing destruction and harm with little to no commentary or afterthought then it is difficult for the audience to experience anything more than a surface level reaction. And I do not believe that more backstory necessarily equates to more sympathy, nor is more sympathy what I’m suggesting. In the same vein, there is a feeling of missed opportunity during the end credits as we see some of the spectacle one might have been expecting from a character with such immense powers as he graduates from picking people off one by one to taking down entire buildings. But, to be fair, I do understand what the filmmakers were trying to achieve in terms of using a more scaled-down approach to what is essentially the first instalment of a would-be franchise.
It is hard to criticise too much as these are precisely the types of horror films that should be protected: original stories that aren’t afraid to subvert expectations laid out by the mainstream. Brightburn does have enough fresh moments to be engaging but the overall execution just falls short of letting it shine. With this in mind, there are a few other positives which I think are worth mentioning before signing off on this review. Firstly, Brandon’s mask is definitely a cool design and deserves praise – we have director David Yarovesky’s wife, Autumn Steed, who served as costume designer for the film, to thank for that. Also, it was nice to see Badger from Breaking Bad (Matt Jones) in a decent role, and gave me the opportunity to briefly jump into the coincidence rabbit hole (in that show, Badger’s real name was also Brandon, and Breaking Bad is often abbreviated to BB which are the same initials Brandon makes into his emblem).
Finally, in terms of the film’s message I felt some importance being placed on the idea of heritage. Brightburn is actually the name of the town, yet it echoes the name of the main character and acts like an alter-ego, subsequently making Brandon inseparable from the setting and, thus, his human parents. The mother-son relationship is also imbued with a strong sense of connection which provides the subtext of the film’s climax. These things perhaps assert that one can’t escape their upbringing and the importance of family, which has a unique meaning for all of us. Brandon’s final actions are not at all glorified and we are meant to perceive him as a villain with a superiority complex who is beyond help. For anyone who thinks they are too good for their parents who raised them lovingly, or considers themselves superior to anyone based on superficial reasons for that matter: let this be a cautionary warning not to burn bridges by acting like an entitled child.