Zach Cregger, the mind behind the genre-bending Barbarian, returns with Weapons; a gripping, psychological horror-thriller that cements his status as one of today’s most exciting horror directors. If Barbarian was a home run, Weapons is a grand slam.

The film wastes no time setting the stage. Right from the beginning, a charming yet eerie child narrator explains that seventeen children vanished from the same classroom at exactly 2:17 a.m.—and only one student remained. While I expected a slow build-up to this moment, the movie smartly skips the exposition and dives headfirst into the premise that was teased in the trailers.

But Weapons isn’t just about the what; it’s about the why. Instead of traditional horror antics, this film leans heavily into psychological warfare, unraveling its mystery through multiple perspectives that deepen your emotional investment with every passing scene.

We begin with Justine (Julia Garner), a teacher whose entire class has disappeared—except for one boy, Alex Lilly (Cary Christopher). The community turns against her, suspicion mounts, and her grief spirals into addiction. Garner delivers a raw and emotional performance that is both haunting and heartbreaking.

Josh Brolin plays Archer Graff, the father of one of the missing kids. His journey to uncover the truth is gripping—he watches Ring camera footage of his son walking into the night, then follows breadcrumb clues in a desperate hunt. His perspective adds a relatable and painful urgency to the story.

We also get chilling insights from Alden Ehrenreich’s police officer Paul Morgan and Austin Abrams as a street-smart drug addict. Their paths cross in unexpected ways that bring us closer to understanding what’s really happening. It reminded me of Death Note—how investigators inch closer and closer to a chilling, incomprehensible truth.

Benedict Wong delivers an unforgettable performance as Principal Marcus. There’s one specific scene involving makeup work on Alex that gave me chills. Wong plays the role with just the right level of calm intensity.

Amy Madigan nearly steals the film as Gladys Lilly, Alex’s aunt and the unnerving antagonist. Her character is steeped in disturbing folklore and dark rituals. She is terrifying to watch—her delivery, her eyes, her presence. Her scenes feel like something out of Hereditary or Rosemary’s Baby, and the direction gives her plenty of opportunities to be genuinely unsettling.

The mystery unravels through clever use of perspective—we see the same events again and again, each time learning more about what’s going on and how the characters are mentally coping. This narrative structure is genius and rare in horror. It turns Weapons into a layered experience that rewards close attention.

Also, it’s funny! Coming from Zach Cregger, a founding member of The Whitest Kids U’ Know, it's no surprise that Weapons has some great comedic moments. There are honest, grounded character reactions that made me—and my audience—laugh out loud.

One standout scene involves a character relentlessly attacking another, screaming over and over again each time he charges forward. Normally, in a horror film, you might expect one or two quick hits and a scream. But here, Cregger milks the moment for maximum comedic effect—allowing five or six knockdowns, each punctuated by a new round of shrieking chaos. It’s absurd, it’s perfectly timed, and it had the entire audience howling with laughter. But what’s even more impressive is that these moments never undercut the story.

This kind of tonal balance is difficult to pull off, and Cregger does it like a master.

What elevates Weapons from being just another horror mystery is the reveal. Without spoiling anything, the third act introduces a terrifying and deeply creepy explanation that feels disturbingly plausible. It’s not just scary—it’s smart.

The cinematography is atmospheric, the score is spine-tingling, and the pacing never lets up. By the time the credits rolled, I was shaken, satisfied, and eager to watch again.

This is one of the best films I’ve seen in theaters in a long time.