Knock at the Cabin
Does humanity deserve to live? With all the hate being spread in the world, be it towards underrepresented communities or the environment, is there really hope for the human race to continue? Is Love, in any of its facets, gone? While many filmmakers explore cataclysmic, ‘End of the World’ scenarios through a pessimistic lens, M. Night Shyamalan has always been optimistic.
‘Consistency’ may not be the first word that comes to mind when talking about Shyamalan, but he has always told stories he was passionate about. More importantly, he always found beauty and humanity in the darkest places of the human mind: whether it is the atypical superhero origin story of Unbreakable, a man regaining his faith and will to live in Signs, or Split’s exploration of what it means to be a survivor of traumatic experiences, he pits his characters in terrifying, life-altering scenarios, but always has them come out stronger. It is the type of earnest filmmaking that is becoming rarer in Hollywood, and it is a key feature of Shyamalan’s direction, overshadowing some of his failures.
Knock at the Cabin is his latest film, just as divisive as his previous features. Couple Eric (Jonathan Groff) and Andrew (Ben Aldridge) are enjoying a vacation in a secluded cabin with their daughter Wen (the young Kristen Cui) when a group of four, armed with dangerous homemade weapons, arrives at their door. They are there to ask Eric and Andrew to make an impossible choice, with repercussions that could bring the world to an end.
When the first trailer for Knock at the Cabin came out, the Internet was confused that there was no mention of this being an adaptation of Paul G. Tremblay’s 2018 novel The Cabin at the End of the World. Why change the title? While the choice may not work for marketing reasons (the book's name captures the attention more quickly than the film’s), its subtlety tells audiences that this will not be the same story. For the most part, it is: Shyamalan’s script, co-written by Steve Desmond and Michael Sherman, follows every narrative beat of the novel, including some of the flashbacks experienced by the protagonists during their forced imprisonment in the cabin, up until the final act.
One of the better changes made to the book has to do with the central couple: Eric and Andrew’s homosexual marriage may be secondary to Tremblay’s philosophical musings on the trolley problem, but Shyamalan puts it front and center. Knock at the Cabin is an inherently queer story of what it means to live in a world that pretends to accept this diversity, but secretly does not. It is fascinating that this film came out the week after the third episode of HBO’s The Last of Us, which also focuses on a gay couple during a world-changing event.
By having a loving couple such as Eric and Andrew, who love their daughter with all of their beings, Shyamalan reminds audiences that a real family is one filled with tenderness and acceptance, and not exclusively a heteronormative one. By grasping such universal notions of parenthood, Knock at the Cabin makes it easy to relate to the main characters and their plight, as well as the immense fear felt in being attacked inside a safe space. Both Groff and Aldridge deliver powerful performances, as their chemistry with each other feels palpable and real, without any of the gay clichés that have plagued American films for decades. The young newcomer Kristen Cui is also fantastic as Wen, continuing the tradition of great child performances in Shyamalan productions, with an added level of agency that was sorely lacking in the novel.
The casting for the four strangers is also spot on: Rupert Grint (who has been acting in Shyamalan’s show Servant) has his first feature film appearance since 2015’s underrated comedy Moonwalkers, and his rage and fierceness are a great showcase of his talent; Abby Quinn’s tensed-up face is a mirror to all of her doubts and fears; and Nikki Amuka-Bird re-teams with her Old director to bring to life another helpful, sympathetic character thrust in an unexpected scenario. But it is Dave Bautista who steals the entire movie as Leonard, the leader of the group: his muscular build is contrasted with how soft-spoken and quiet he is, taking it upon himself to create trust between his group and the central family, trying his hardest not to scare them. He keeps on proving just how massive his range is and how committed he is to be taken seriously as an actor. This is the type of performance that he has been working towards since his revelatory turn in the opening scene of Blade Runner 2049.
This unusual villainous group instills doubts into Eric, Andrew, and the audience. At a time when calls for action regarding a worldwide pandemic and global warming fall on deaf ears, Knock at the Cabin starts a compelling discussion on what it means to have faith, not only in religion but in the goodness of other people. It would be easy to dismiss the four invaders as just religious fanatics or cartoonish villains, but, while Shyamalan creates edge-of-your-seat sequences of attempted escapes through extreme close-ups and tilted angles, there are clear conflicted emotions at play here. It is never clear whether what these strangers are telling the couple is real or fake, born from delusion, or just a sadistically elaborate hate crime.
This is where the main difference between Tremblay’s novel and Shyamalan’s script arises: if the book ends up on a downbeat, depressing note, Knock at the Cabin leaves audiences with warm feelings. After all, Shyamalan is never one to end his films on a sour note. While he may not be a religious individual (he identifies as agnostic), he does have faith in humanity, that they will do the right thing for the future of their children, that it is never too late to change and realize what is actually happening around us. Knock at the Cabin is a success, one of the director’s most thrilling and consistent films, and a necessary wake-up call to people around the world to be more open, loving, and connected to the world that surrounds us. May Shyamalan’s optimism and hopefulness never fade away.