The Front Room, 2024.
Directed by Max Eggers and Sam Eggers.
Starring Brandy Norwood, Andrew Burnap, Kathryn Hunter, Neal Huff, and Mary Testa.
SYNOPSIS:
It tells the story of a newly pregnant couple who are forced to take in an ailing, estranged stepmother.
Before properly diving into The Front Room, it must be mentioned that before the film starts, there is an ad with star Brandy discussing the usual silence etiquette, which would have been expected until the speech took a turn into how, since this is a movie about an evil stepmother, it’s okay to get loud and talk back at the screen. This is confounding, but it also plays like a stealth upfront admission that the movie isn’t good and that the filmmakers are desperate for any audience engagement. Mostly, it’s just disheartening that directors and stars (Ryan Gosling appeared in a similar ad before The Fall Guy telling people it is okay to leave their phones on as long as it’s on silent, defeating the purpose of the bright ass screen, although still not as egregious as openly telling a crowd it’s okay to join the main character in talking/pushing back against the villain) are continuously shifting into letting the obnoxious types of moviegoers have their way, ignoring the sacredly quiet space aspect for those who actually love cinema.
This movie is nowhere near riveting or entertaining enough to get that worked up about. At most, it elicits occasional chuckles. Generally, these laughs come early since the film’s setup is rather promising and sets the stage for some explosively dysfunctional dynamics. From the younger stepbrothers of The Lighthouse director Robert Eggers, The Front Room comes from Max and Sam Eggers (and is based on the short story by Susan Hill, which is probably how it should have been approached for an adaptation), following an interracial married couple expecting a child who allows a cruel, hardcore Christian, Confederacy-tied stepmother to stay with them under the tantalizing prospect that she has come into enough money to pay off their mortgage and other debts.
That is a loaded proposition for Brandy Norwood’s Belinda, a Black woman struggling to be seen as anything other than an adjunct at the University where she teaches a course about mythological gods. Her supportive husband, Norman (Andrew Burnap), is a public defender working hard on a case with promises of a sweet promotion, but as of right now, they can barely afford paint for the baby’s room. Belinda is also expected to give birth anywhere within a few weeks, so so so she is dealing with a lot would be an understatement.
Suddenly, they receive a phone call from Kathryn Hunter’s (such an underappreciated in phenomenal films such as The Tragedy of Macbeth and Poor Things) Solange, bearing news that Norman’s father has died. Throughout this, Norman appears as if the devil himself has contacted him. Having seen the remaining 80 minutes, that reaction is credible. Nevertheless, at the wake, Solange explains that doctors have advised her not to live alone anymore, and, despite Norman advising against this to Belinda in a panic, the previously mentioned arrangement begins, with Solange being placed in the nursery, aka the front room.
Cover in makeup and prosthetics to make Solange appear sickly fragile, Kathryn Hunter also plays the crude and offensive hag with a hunch and a walker. Her physical commitment to pulling off this character as a cross between deceptive, shocking, amusing, and nasty is impressive. However, where things go haywire and repetitive is the story itself, which is less interested in examining whether or not Belinda believes the degradation she experiences from Solange (repeatedly mispronouncing her name, numerous racist remarks, and somewhat faking the level of assistance she needs, effectively turning this Black woman into something that uncomfortably resembles a modern slave) is worth the financial stability and more a blunt metaphor that taking care of the elderly has its crossover moments with taking care of newborn babies and children. Solange is also trying to turn Norman against Belinda, which oddly doesn’t really go anywhere or have a satisfying payoff.
One entrancing scene utilizes a slow zoom into a reflection, which is more jarring than anything else, considering how bland the rest is visually. The entire film mostly falls into a routine of gross-out gags (Solange is inconstant), racist remarks, and strange prayer circles. That last one might lead one to believe that a horror element is waiting to come into play here. It could be argued that something supernatural might happen, given that once the baby is born, it refuses to attach to Belinda but feels comforted by Solange’s religious belongings. Still, the filmmakers stick to those jokes long after the initial amusement has worn off, arriving at a flat ending. The Front Room introduces some solid ideas and dynamics upfront, but it has no clue where to take them.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
