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Each week, Drew creates a watchlist with film recommendations provided by you.

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A spoiler-free description of the movie.

A woman discovers the AirBnB she rented is not what it seems.

Visit the IMDb page for more details.

→ Humor, misdirection. Much of what makes writer-director Zach Cregger’s films so satisfying is his writing, which always seems to blend humor and dread and unpredictability.

→ Bizarre. When all the mysteries of Barbarian are revealed, I suppose the most well-adjusted among us would say something like: “What the fuck?”

→ When Justin Long shows up. Sometimes Justin Long turns up and a movie is better because he’s there and game for just about anything.

With his debut feature-length film, Barbarian, Zach Cregger cemented himself as a filmmaker to watch. But prior to the film’s release, Cregger was mostly known for his work in a relatively popular sketch comedy group, and his role as co-director in the (broadly panned) Miss March with his late friend and collaborator, Trevor Moore.

Of course, we’ve all seen what’s happened with his follow-up, Weapons, which garnered end-to-end critical acclaim, so much so that Amy Madigan brought home an Academy Award for her portrayal as the film’s primary villain, Aunt Gladys. Broadly speaking, his stellar work has earned that coveted film trailer card — the one that says “from the director who brought you…” and I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot of it over the coming years.

So, consider this week’s recommendation a reminder to go back and watch Barbarian. Bill Skarsgård and Georgina Campbell anchor this two-hander horror film with pitch-perfect performances, a tall order since the film’s themes of misogyny and abuse demand nuanced performances, or otherwise could appear trite or reductive. Best of all is that with the added benefit of hindsight, you can see Barbarian as essential context in Cregger’s filmmaking journey, the place where he started honing his distinct blend of humor and existential fright, and his relentless quest to subvert viewer expectations.

A fact or two about the production that makes you say “oh, neat.”

BOTTLE EPISODE: THE TERMINAL.

There’s a man sitting in a worn pleather chair in a bright-white airport terminal and his hairline is receding. His leg is shaking up and down and no matter how hard he tries, his impatience is as obvious as it gets. He sighs thinking about what people might think if they see him, and his shoulders roll downwards when he notices his plane parked outside the frosted terminal window.

He watches as the jetway unfurls towards the doorframe of the vehicle like the slow, unhinged jaw of some sort of Jurassic creature until he’s interrupted by the familiar chime that always precedes an announcement from the air carrier’s desk.

“Hello everyone, and thank you for choosing to fly with us today. We know you have a lot of choices when you take to the skies, and, well, we’re just so-darned humbled you picked us!”  The attendant paused for a moment as if she were waiting for applause, but the man was the only person in the waiting area and presumably the only passenger for this morning’s flight. The attendant went on about boarding procedures and the man glazed over until his lips were just about perfectly straightened with disinterest, and that’s when he heard something strange, from the flight attendant’s bright red lips to his big sad ears.

“And of course, before you board the flight today, you must leave all of your personal belongings behind and remove every article of clothing from your body,” she chuckled. “Even your smartwatch, Gary.”

His posture stiffened. How did she know his name? Wait, that’s not the weird part. He’s probably in the airline’s system. But, why should he board a plane completely naked?

“Excuse me, miss?”

“Yes, Gary?” She looked familiar, like an actress from an insurance commercial, but he was certain they’d never met before.

“Yeah, um. Why do I need to be naked? Why wouldn’t I bring my belongings on the trip with me?”

“Wow, you are an observant man, aren’t you?” As she patronized him, her mouth took the shape of a smile, but something was off about it. “Well, I’ll tell you. Once you do what I’m asking you to do!”

“Okay, but I don’t want to get naked. Can I change flights?”

“All of the flights out of this airport are identical. They all leave at the same time, and so there would be no use in changing your flight.” She didn’t blink much, if at all.

“Okay,” Gary’s eyebrows crinkled, his confusion as obvious as the nosebleeds he used to get as a kid, “well, can I cancel my flight?”

“I’m afraid that’s not allowed. If I cancelled your flight, it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else who might want to cancel.”

“Everyone else?”

She gestured behind him and Gary craned his neck around and saw an endless expanse of terminal after terminal with just a single person waiting in each. Some were bare naked and standing in front of the gate, and others were raising their arms to ask a few questions of their own.

“Where exactly am I, miss — ”

“— sure, you can call me Miss. That’s a fine name,” she laughed a little too loud. “Anywho, that’s not such a smart question to be asking, now is it?”

“Why’s that?” he began scratching at his cuticle, which is precisely what Gary does when he gets nervous.

“Well, duh! Because you’re at an airport, dummy! What’s it look like to you?”

It’s a dream. This has to be a dream. He shifted in his seat, which at the moment felt as comfortable as sitting on a bare cactus. As he started planning his follow-up question, his train of thought came to a sudden and screeching halt, brick-walled by a perceivable, thick fog.

“Would it be easier for you if you didn’t have to ask? I can just answer the questions as you think of them!” It was Miss’s voice, unmistakably.

Gary jumped to his feet and, though he wished he hadn’t, let out an audible, involuntary shriek.

“How’d you? What the —”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you!” Her lips weren’t moving, but he heard her right in between his ears. “I just want to make your trip as comfortable as possible. It’s the least I can do.”

“What do you mean? People only say that when something bad’s gonna happen. And how are you talking to me without your mouth? What the fuck is going on here?” Gary was shouting, practically.

“Gary, I think you’re a very smart man and, for that reason, I really think you do know what’s going on here. But you’re asking, so let me just spell it out for you.”

“Thank you,” something still felt off before Gary realized what it was. “Can you just move your lips like you’re talking again? You’re freaking me out.”

“Oh, of course, happy to help, Gary,” her lips moved but, Gary noticed, something about it was mechanical, forced. “First, do what I’m asking.”

She didn’t need to say it. Gary removed his clothes and his watch and the scraggly hairs stood up one-by-one like a sad, obedient little army in response to the cold air. He looked back at the attendant and she nodded.

“Wonderful, Gary. Just wonderful. So, do you remember buying a plane ticket?”

Gary considered the obviously silly question, because of course he bought a — wait a second. Did I buy one? When? To where?

“Gary? Anybody in there? You don’t remember, do you?” she paused.

“So what if I don’t? I forget things all the time. I’m a busy man.”

“Sure, hun. You are a busy man. But there’s a reason you don’t remember buying a ticket.”

Gary thought and thought hard until the creases in his forehead started looking like their own faces and he turned red, and then he looked to Miss with the eyes of a toddler, helpless, pleading for answers.

“Why don’t you come up here, Gary? I’m going to scan your ticket in a minute and I don’t want you to miss your flight.”

Gary looked around and most other terminals were empty and planes were taxiing away from the jetways. He resigned himself to the situation and walked up to the gate, if for no other reason than to figure out what was happening. “What’s going to happen to me, Miss?”

“Nothing, Gary. Nothing is going to happen to you,” Miss scanned his ticket and walked him through the jetway and into the narrow aisle of the plane cabin. “You’re going to sit on a flight, naked and alone, in economy. Our flight attendants don’t allow seat switching, but that’s okay because we’ve upgraded economy seats to be very comfortable. The flight won’t land or crash or experience turbulence or cabin pressure changes.”

She gestured towards the seat and Gary sat down. The seatback in front of him was so close that his knees were in his mouth.

“But, why? Why fly if I’m not going anywhere?”

“Gary, you should get it by now. Don’t you remember what you did…” she paused. “...wait a minute. Give me your ticket.”

Miss looked it over and her eyes widened.

“Gary. You high roller, you!” She smirked. “I didn’t realize you upgraded. That explains it. So, you don’t have any memory of what you did?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Okay, that’s great. Just great! Better that way, really. I wish everyone could afford it,” Miss handed him the ticket back and wrapped her hands around his. “It’s really a gift.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to remember what I did?” Gary’s cuticle was now bleeding from the nervous scratching.

“Gary. Think about it. Why would someone want to forget something they did?”

“Oh.” Gary puzzled.

“Ding ding ding!” her eyes were dry and still open with a visible layer of dust coating the surface. 

“So what, this is some kind of jail or something?”

“...”

“Hell?”

“...”

“God damnit, can you just tell me where the fuck I am?!?” Gary slammed on the armrests wrapped around his waist and a little blood from his cuticle spattered across his bare thighs.

“No. But I’ll tell you this. If you were in hell, you’d remember what you did.”

“Okay, so” Gary’s leg was shaking and his new little economy seat shook along with it. “So, am I dead?”

“Yes.”

“So, this is a punishment?”

“...” she nodded.

“So, why let me fly around like this?”

“Well, the truth is I’m not supposed to tell, but I’m a sucker for guys like you. The ones who really have no clue,” she pushed her hair to the side, almost as if she was flirting. “Gary, you deserve to go to hell. Trust me, I know what you did, and I know what a lot of other people have done. And you have done far worse things than a lot of people in hell.”

“Gee, thanks Miss,” Gary quipped as a bead of sweat rolled into his eye. He began rubbing at it.

“But the truth is, Gary, we’ve run out of space in hell. And you were a very wealthy man when you were alive. So, we started offering a premium package to anyone who could afford it. Helps us preserve space and fund some renovations. Hell is like, super old. Think about it.”

“So, I paid for the plane?”

“That’s right. And you sprung for the memory erasure package. Everything you were planning on leaving to your family. The wealth and the houses and the boats and the planes. The government owns that stuff now or something. But you’re dead now, so who cares, right?”

“Are you saying that The Devil…works with the government?”

“I work with anyone who’s willing, Gary.”

“You? You’re The Devil?”

“I told you, you can call me Miss.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Nope. The Devil. Or Miss. Not Jesus. But if I had a nickel for every time someone called me Jesus Christ right after I told them I was the devil…”

“I wasn’t…oh never-fucking-mind. So, what now?”

“Well, you gave up everything for a slightly more comfortable eternal damnation. I always find it funny, though. Nobody ever thinks about what eternal actually means before they upgrade. Like, do you really want to sit in economy forever? Personally, I’d prefer something more…eventful. Even The Bachelor Chamber.” 

“The Bachelor Chamber?”

“It’s what it sounds like. You watch The Bachelor in perpetuity. But it’s reserved for folks who can’t afford the upgrade. Look, at the very least, if I chose the plane, I’d probably at least want to know what I did. At least it’s something to think about. But, it's too late now. You spared no expenses! So, sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight.”

Miss slowly strolled away through the aisle letting her fingers graze the seat headrests on the way out.

Gary thought about what life would be like in economy forever and tears began running down his leathered cheeks. To be aboard an empty plane with no destination and no runway to land on. To have all this time to wonder. Then, one final question popped into his head and he felt compelled to ask it.

“Miss, why am I naked?

“Because, Gary. Fuck you. That’s why.” Miss giggled and pranced down the aisle, through the doorway and out to the jetway. She closed the aircraft door and pressurized lock and ignored the screams from inside the aircraft as it slowly pulled away preparing for its one and only departure.

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