Don’t Breathe 2 review – dull and dingy home invasion horror sequel
As box office continues to be wounded by both hybrid release strategies and the Delta variant (The Suicide Squad is the latest casualty of both), luring audiences out to the multiplex has become a lofty task, with studios posing the difficult question of just what film is worth the money, hassle and potential risk. After 99 increasingly awful minutes, I can confidently, nay bullishly, tell you that this weekend’s schlock horror Don’t Breathe 2 is not worth any of the above. Save the cash, save yourself.
The shock success of the Sam Raimi-produced home invasion original meant that a second chapter would be inevitable regardless of its necessity (the final scene practically guaranteed one). So now, five years later, as the briskly efficient film about burglars meeting their match has well and truly evaporated from our minds and at a time when a sequel as pointless as this feels even more pointless than ever, here it lumbers into view, an unforgivably dull piece of product that should never have breathed in the first place.
The first film took a familiar premise and gave it a novel spin. What if the home being invaded (by three young and impoverished burglars) was owned by a blind man and what if that blind man was an ex-military killing machine who, in a divisively nasty twist, had a kidnapped girl in the basement who he had artificially inseminated? It lost some steam by the absurd, and sticky, finale but director Fede Alvarez (who had shown a flair for gory excess in his Evil Dead remake) squeezed more than enough tension from the setup to leave audiences thrilled and a $10m budget swelled to a $157m global gross. But the film’s sleeper success hasn’t haunted the culture since and a belated, schedule-filling follow-up feels like fan service for fans that no longer exist.
Gone is one of the first film’s aces – a plucky Jane Levy as a likable if morally dubious protagonist – and demoted is the other – Alvarez is now just co-writer and producer – and as such, there’s a certain off-brand cheapness to the film, not helped by its Serbian location unbelievably doubling up for Detroit. Back is Stephen Lang as Nordstrom, the crafty sightless killer, who is now living with an 11-year-old girl Phoenix (Madelyn Grace). He’s recreated the family that was ripped away from him when his daughter was killed in a car accident but has done so through nefarious means, albeit perhaps less nefarious than his original turkey baster plan in film one. But when a group of intruders force their way on to his property once again, he’s forced to defend her as well as confront the difficult secrets of his past.
Switching us from the side of the intruders to the side of those being intruded upon lumps Alvarez and cowriter-director Rodo Sayagues with a knotty dilemma. Having seen what Nordstrom is capable of, that he’s a murderer and a rapist, how can we be expected to care about what happens to him? It’s a question that’s partly answered by the introduction of his replacement daughter but there’s a nostakes flatness to the scenes that don’t involve her as we watch odious thugs take on an odious rapist, a collection of #TeamNoOne showdowns. Let them all burn.
In the first film, those breaking in were of course unarguably reprehensible but they were also given a “right, but” backstory, struggling to survive in the economically depressed climate of Detroit, desperate for relief. Here they’re made as cartoonishly awful as possible (led by a snarling, silly Brendan Sexton III) and their ultimate plan for the girl so laughably repulsive that suddenly, problematically, Nordstrom is made to seem like the better option. The film’s “everyone is awful” emo worldview would perhaps be more forgivable, or at least tolerable, if the film was at least baselevel competent. But it’s remarkably, tiresomely suspense-free and while Alvarez soaked the original in a pungently grim, hard-to-shake atmosphere, Sayagues struggles to make his film linger, like a shoddy 80s slasher sequel you forgot existed.
Lang is an effectively imposing physical presence but his character remains a problem the film isn’t able to fix. Is a rapist less evil if he is caring towards dogs? Is a kidnapper less evil if he takes care of who he’s kidnapped? Is a murderer less evil if he shows slight last act remorse? The answer to all is of course no but perhaps a smarter film would have been able to sift through such moral murk and come out the other side with an ending that’s less pat than this one. Don’t Breathe 2 is not only struggling for air but it’s struggling for purpose and meaning and hopefully this weekend, audiences too.
Don’t Breathe 2 is released in US and UK cinemas on 13 August
answer. It’s not enough to think about what’s wrong with your current role, your dream job or even your passions, says Tweddell. “The strongest question you can work on is how you want to live, and how you want to be. We don’t think of our values enough, yet this is where our resistance and conflict often sit – making a career and life change has to be about more than career for it to be fulfilling.”
How would my perfect day be different?
Tweddell gets her clients to come up with a clear picture of their “ideal tomorrow”, with no detail too small or idea discounted. They repeat that exercise three times over a six-week period. “It’s great to see what changes, the clarity of what’s going on for people,” she says. “People will always have the answer of what to do next after this exercise.”
What do my friends and family say?
A trusted sounding board can help you to understand your own thinking and propel you towards a decision. “They often see things in us that we don’t see in ourselves, which really helps in the search for future positions,” says Chambers.
Conversely, it is hard to make a big life change without the support of those closest to you, especially if there are financial pressures. By involving them, he says, “you have allies on that journey and some accountability”.
What would I be giving up by quitting?
Change inevitably means compromise, says Tweddell. Being clear about what you would be saying goodbye to – friends, benefits, stability, a familiar routine – may clarify whether you are really prepared to give it up. “It helps people to create a solid foundation for change: they will make the move with eyes wide open,” she says.
What could I gain by quitting?
“We’re often so quick to say what we don’t like: this question probes people in a different direction,” says Chambers. “By thinking positively, they tend to light up a bit – because they realise they actually have a lot to give.”
Especially if you have been with your employer for a long time, you may have lost sight of your market value, says Amanda Reuben of Bijou Recruitment. “Often people come to me because they’re not feeling valued.”
If you have repeatedly been passed over for pay rises or promotion, a new job could be a reset, says Reuben. Moving to a new company has also been shown to bump up your salary far more than increases within a role.
Have I explored every option with my employer?
Some of what you want from a new job, you might be able to secure in your current one. With your perfect-day plan as a guide, see what you can negotiate – such as flexible working, a different reporting line, reduced hours or higher pay.
“Often the value to you as an individual is huge, when for the business there’s not a huge difference,” says Reuben. “When you’ve been somewhere for 10 years, you become so compliant – or complacent – you don’t actually think about what you could do differently.”
Should I wait until we’re back in the office to make a decision?
“If you know you want to change, waiting isn’t going to change that,” says Reuben – plus, she adds, it is easier to search for a new job while working remotely.
But if you’re undecided, it may be worth holding off to see how your employer navigates this transition towards hybrid working, says Chambers. “For many, it’s going to be make or break. Most employees have given an awful lot over this period and are waiting to see if they’re going to get the return.”
The key is to be clear with yourself about your own needs and desires, so that when the dust settles, you can act in line with them.
Should I quit over my toxic boss?
If your company is big enough, says
Reuben, you might be able to change your reporting line or otherwise put some distance between you. “But in a small organisation, you can’t get away from them.”
Human resources may be able to help; only you know whether it’s time to cut your losses. “If there’s nothing you can do, and you decide your mental health is more important, the answer does become clearer,” says Schechter. “Ideally make those decisions before breaking point.”
Reuben says people often don’t understand the full toll of their toxic workplace until they start at a new one. “You see transformations … It’s like leaving a bad marriage. People put up with so much for the sake of a salary.”
When should I quit over stress?
When it is consistently negatively affecting your overall quality of life, says Schechter. “Is it getting in the way of sleep, are you unable to be present with your family outside work time, are you cancelling social plans or working on weekends?”
Health impacts are also relevant: you may find yourself getting sick more often, or your blood pressure rising.
Before dismissing this as just a busy period, says Chambers, it’s important to make sure that it will actually pass. “If there’s an endpoint, that helps you to make an informed decision: ‘Am I going to be able to tolerate it until then?’”
If you have a history of stress, it could be that work triggers something in you that a change would not necessarily address, says Schechter. “A lot of the pressures people feel come from their own beliefs – about making mistakes, for example, or not being seen as good enough.”
In some companies, however, bullying or overwork is structural. Schechter asks clients to reflect “on a Sunday night, before the work week starts: what is it that they are most dreading?”
Another way to identify the source of your distress – your situation, or your response – is to ask yourself if a capable friend would struggle with what is being asked of you: “Would they experience the same feelings, or would they handle it differently?”
If you’re putting yourself under pressure, therapy could help to unpick the underlying reasons and equip you with coping strategies.
Are my expectations realistic?
“There’s a lot out there that says ‘If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life’,” says Chambers – which can fuel the falsehood that there’s a perfect job out there. Being your own boss in particular is glamorised – “but it’s bloody hard work”.
Ask yourself if you are really ready for a learning curve. “There is an energy cost for quitting your job and starting with a new employer – especially at the moment, when you might not meet your team in person,” says Chambers.
Reuben says that many people who come to her to explore their alternatives end up deciding to stay put in their current role: “They realise ‘it’s not so bad’, or ‘it suits me’.”
Can I really afford to leave?
Appetites for risk vary, says Tamsin Caine, a chartered financial planner – but three to six months’ worth of living expenses is a recommended safety net if you plan to quit then look for a similar job.
Changing career or moving to selfemployment warrants more: at least enough to cover 12 months of living expenses and any startup costs. “You’ve got to think: ‘What is the worst that can happen?’”
But in weighing up whether to quit, “it’s not just about the salary,” says Caine. Your current employer may have a generous pension or expenses policy that should factor into a cost-benefit scenario, especially if your plan is to cover it all yourself as a freelancer. It also pays to be very clear about your current finances.
Could caring less about work help?
It’s been easy for work to take over our lives, especially while working from home. Common sense steps to protect wellbeing and boundaries can make a big difference to our ability to cope, says Schechter. “When we get enough sleep, eat well, do exercise, talk to our friends, take time out – all that makes it easier.”
It could be that you find your career has come to stand in for your identity. If so, Schechter suggests spending some time defining your values and investing in relationships, hobbies and interests outside your job – if only to ease the transition later.
“It can help to build up that personal identity so that the work identity isn’t so important: there’s something else there that equals it, and betters it. Otherwise, how else do you know how to spend your time?”
Is now the right time?
The job market remains highly uncertain, Reuben says: it could take as long as six months to find a new job. “It’s a brave person who says ‘I just want a change – I’m going to find something’ at the moment.”
Unless your current work situation is abusive or intolerable, Chambers says, “you can take it step by step”. Indeed, spending time to reflect on the past, unpick the present and project into the future can make everything that comes later easier.
For example, if your ultimate goal is self-employment or to change careers, you might start to fill in gaps in your skillset, find a mentor or build your savings. “Asking yourself these questions can make quitting an empowered choice,” Chambers says.
Why can’t I make a decision?
“There will never be a moment when everything aligns and every box is ticked,” says Tweddell. “At some point you have to just decide and trust yourself to make it work.”
She suggests clients set a date and time to make the decision and put it in their diary. “You can play with ideas, ask questions, think, reflect all the way up to that date – and then you make the decision and do it,” she says. “Whatever you decide, you’ll feel very liberated because you are owning what happens next.”
helmets – you name it. In this era of personal measurement, we may soon be able to use it to learn more about our own inner workings.
Engineers are designing adhesive patches, for example, that are embedded with electronics to capture and analyse sweat, extracting information that could then be sent to smartphones. Such technology could also be built into a smartwatch that would analyse sweat emerging from skin and in contact with the device.
Smartwatches of the future may monitor your sweat for alcohol, and send you an alert when it’s wise to take a taxi home. Cars may eventually feature a fingerprint pad that requires drivers to assess intoxicant levels before the engine is permitted to start. Coaches might choose to monitor athletes, to improve training regimes – aerobic or anaerobic – based on lactate levels calculated by analysing sweat produced during a workout. Or, during an important team match, a player releasing biomarkers of stress or fatigue in their sweat might be replaced with someone fresher.
Some sweat-patch developers aspire to accurately track glucose – an unexpectedly challenging goal, in part because skin bacteria eat glucose as soon as it hits the surface, disrupting precise measurement. Yet the hope is that one day people with diabetes will not have to rely on needles to faithfully track glucose levels.
Yet sweat monitoring, like most technological innovations, has progressive and dystopian potential. Being able to measure a person’s innermost secrets from a fingerprint could make it disturbingly simple for health insurers to identify some pre-existing conditions or for employers to do snap drug tests. Fingerprint analysis by law enforcement also creates potential for conflict with civil liberties. In the US, law enforcement can surreptitiously collect DNA from a wayward hair or from the saliva on a discarded coffee cup. In the UK, DNA is sampled from individuals arrested for a criminal offence. Although it is likely to be many years before fingerprint chemical analysis reaches the mainstream of forensic analysis, collecting a suspect’s fingerprint would be much easier than acquiring a DNA sample.
There are also tech privacy protocols to consider. If our smartphones and smartwatches become able to monitor our sweaty secrets, what happens if there is a hack to an app, or if our information is unwittingly shared with third parties?
Although many people bemoan their sweat’s odour and the wet patches it leaves behind, the secrets it can reveal about human biology are fascinating. As we scroll through the list of chemicals Francese has detected in my single index fingerprint, I am overwhelmed by how much my own body gives away, and left thinking about how we might one day use the bounty of information flowing out of our pores – particularly on a hot summer’s day.
The Joy of Sweat: The Strange Science of Perspiration by Sarah Everts (WW Norton, £19.99) is publishedon 13 August.To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.