Horror Reboot Stuns Critics with 80% Fresh Rating

Now, when one thinks about the hustle and bustle of Hollywood reviving yet another classic, the heart doesn’t necessarily leap with joy. Yet, we find ourselves in a curious situation with Nicolas Pesce's 2020 rendition of The Grudge. If there ever was a time to pop the confetti, this just might be it. This film isn’t just another run-of-the-mill horror flick; it turns out to be a surprisingly superb addition to the long and twisted family tree of a franchise notorious for its haunting Japanese roots.

It’s atmospheric, and the kind of terrifying that sticks with you like an unsolicited text from an ex. Let’s take a moment to appreciate the remarkable cast. They lend a certain vivacity to a story that bravely steps away from the well-trodden path of horror clichés, which, let’s be honest, is no small feat. Born from the ashes of a delayed release and met with an unceremoniously timed debut right at the dawn of a pandemic, this Grudge reboot has somehow emerged victorious from the void—all while being tragically overlooked by critics.

Ah, the lore of The Grudge. For those uninitiated, it centers around a curse that festers from the bitter grip of an untimely death. Typically, we’re introduced to the vengeful spirits Kayako and her son, Toshio—not this time. In Pesce’s version, the curse dilutes itself through characters mired in their own haunting grievances. Yes, it’s like a low-grade fever of anger that spreads through relatives and friends instead of the usual horror-movie casualties.

The obligatory opening text we expect—the one that drudges up the murders of Kayako and Toshio—takes a back seat, allowing a kaleidoscope of new narratives to emerge. This daring departure reveals a world of grief that mirrors real-life heartaches. If grief were a fashionable accessory, this film would get a front-row seat at Paris Fashion Week, right alongside the likes of Hereditary and Talk to Me.

Enter Detective Muldoon, played effortlessly by Andrea Riseborough, who, like so many of us, navigates the shark-infested waters of single motherhood after a bitter loss. She’s thrown into the depths of a death tied to a seemingly innocuous house—now, this isn’t your average fixer-upper. Its former occupants are notorious for their tragic ends, unraveling like a badly knit sweater pulled from both ends. A dementia patient murders her husband, realtors embark on a murder-suicide pact, and yet another family spirals into chaos post-Japan trip—talk about a home that’s lost its charm!

In the conventional world of The Grudge, we tend to watch unsuspecting victims inadvertently collide with Kayako and Toshio, who chip away at their sanity with the finesse of a passive-aggressive text. But in this reimagining, it's quite the opposite—most characters are already teetering on the edge. One is suffocated by the weight of grief, another contemplates a heartbreaking decision, and a few grapple with the looming specter of a medically necessary abortion. Yes, the existential angst here would make even the darkest of spirits squirm in discomfort.

While Kayako and Toshio may have been benched like summer camp kids during the final swim meet, their absence is brilliantly compensated by a cast that is both hauntingly relatable and engaging. The reimagining touches on themes of isolation and loss, frequently seen in J-Horror, but it digs a bit deeper into family dynamics. Shimizu took inspiration from the misunderstandings that leave the elderly and children vulnerable to loneliness—Pesce expands upon this beautifully, leading us to profound questions of social responsibility. Do we snuff out the suffering of a loved one, or do we hold onto life tightly, like it’s the last slice of pizza at a party? And how do we bear the unbearable loss while still being able to care for others?

Pesce has made it clear that it is this human aspect, the authentic core of his paranormal thriller, that creates a resonant journey for viewers. It’s a bit like discovering your grandma has an Instagram, utterly surprising yet oddly comforting. With a whopping eleven other incarnations of The Grudge swirling around the pop culture ether, along with the Ringu mashup Sadako vs. Kayako and the Ju-On: Origins series, one might expect nothing fresh here. But oh, how glorious is it to be proven wrong! The decision to sideline the namesakes pays off