Reviews
‘Never Let Go’ Review – Alexandre Aja’s Lean Bedtime Story Has Sharp Teeth
Director Alexandre Aja continues his recent streak of helming self-contained horror, shifting from the claustrophobic confines of space in Oxygen and the flooding Florida house in Crawl to a rundown cabin in the woods with his latest, Never Let Go. Its simple setup and fairy tale qualities feel familiar, with inevitable comparisons drawn to Bird Box due to the title’s meaning. While it is lean in plotting, Never Let Go becomes a vicious little bedtime story with sharp teeth in Aja’s hands, one that refreshingly doesn’t handhold.
Never Let Go introduces a small family of three deep into their self-imposed isolation in the woods. Under the strict rules of Momma (Halle Berry), siblings Samuel (Anthony B. Jenkins, The Deliverance) and Nolan (Percy Daggs IV) spend their days venturing out to forage for food while tethered to ropes. The rope is key: there’s an evil lurking in the forest that only Momma can see, and the ropes protect them from it. While Samuel, the slightly older of the boys, remains the doting, dutiful son, Nolan finds himself questioning his surroundings and wondering if, perhaps, Momma might be wrong about evil’s existence.
Percy Daggs IV as Nolan, Halle Berry as Momma and Anthony B. Jenkins as Samuel in Never Let Go. Photo Credit: Liane Hentscher
Alexandre Aja, working from a screenplay by Ryan Grassby and KC Coughlin, leans heavily into psychological horror and ambiguity here. Berry’s Momma is ferocious, both in her profound love of her sons and in her fear for what’s outside. Everything we learn about this world, set sometime in an undisclosed future, is filtered through Momma. And Momma keeps things close to the vest in the name of protecting what little family, her most cherished, she has left. Aja directs most of the horror to her in the first act, including spooky nighttime visitations (Abigail‘s William Catlett) or eerie forest visions, instilling doubt in reality.
Mostly, though, Aja keeps the horror restrained initially to instead establish this warped family as a fully realized, endearing trio despite their bizarre circumstances. Berry finds compelling ways to peel back layers of Momma while maintaining the mysterious nature of this story; she’s at once fierce and vulnerable, with a volatile nature that keeps both her sons and us on edge. It’s that push and pull between mom and sons and Berry’s compelling performance as the flawed and potentially mentally unwell Momma that lays the groundwork. The slightly older Samuel earns initial rooting interest as the voice of reason and as the victim of an unlucky accident at Nolan’s hands. But the more curious Nolan becomes, allegiances shift thanks to an empathetic, spirited performance from Daggs IV that becomes the emotional center of the film. It certainly helps that Nolan asks all the questions the audience wants answered, evolving Nolan into an audience proxy, as well.
Anthony B. Jenkins as Samuel in Never Let Go. Photo Credit: Liane Hentscher
Like a frog immersed in a pot of water set to a slow boil, Aja slowly ramps up the claustrophobic unease and psychological torment. Subtle signs that life at the cabin isn’t quite sustainable further erode morale and sanity, letting Aja escalate the psychological horror into something far more visceral. It culminates in an intense and intensely satisfying third act that lets Aja cut loose with his trademark ability to wring taut tension from just about any scenario. Luckily, Never Let Go gives the director no shortage of opportunities to leave you on edge.
Through fairy tale whimsy, recurring snake imagery, a stunning Southern Gothic production design from Jeremy Stanbridge, and a remarkable cast, Never Let Go elevates a barebones, well-trodden concept. It’s unafraid to get dark and mean, removing the safety net for all, and refuses to overexplain its themes or the evil itself. It’s a smart approach when tackling a horror movie, asking questions about blind faith and belief. While the final coda does veer into cliched territory, Aja ultimately delivers a satisfying new horror fairy tale that’s light on logic but rewarding on heart and a trio of affecting performances that ensure the horror, pain, and endless familial love are felt in equal measure.
Never Let Go releases in theaters on September 20, 2024.
Carlo Collodi’s The Adventures of Pinocchio was written nearly 150 years ago, and yet it’s still considered to be the ultimate parable about the fundamental human experience of learning right from wrong and the importance of empathy.
Its message is still evergreen, and the reason that two separate big-budget Pinocchio films by auteur directors were released in 2022. And yet, it’s a story that also has creepy enough bones to fuel a really potent horror film when properly executed (please watch Pinocchio’s Revenge if you’ve never seen that piece of dark, gonzo filmmaking before).
The Twisted Childhood Universe – or TCU, if we must call it this – has largely been more hits than misses. That being said, Pinocchio Unstrung isn’t just a surprisingly entertaining horror film, but it’s a genuine love letter to practical effects and old-fashioned animatronics instead of being some cheap CG slog. Rhys Frake-Wakefield has crafted a disturbing reimagining of Pinocchio that doesn’t get its strings tied up in knots.
In Pinocchio Unstrung, James (Cameron Bell) loses his mother and best friend, so he’s sent to live with his grandfather Geppetto (Richard Brake, 3 From Hell), who seems detached and isn’t necessarily the best role model for this grieving boy. There’s actually a fairly interesting idea here by having both Pinocchio (Jude Evan Lloyd) and a real boy living with Geppetto, while Pinocchio forms a frightening attachment towards James.
Geppetto built Pinocchio for James so he can have a friend, rather than it being a creation to heal his own sadness and loneliness. This heads into even more tragic territory for this vulnerable boy that feels like something that’s more akin to The Boy, Child’s Play, or even the later Puppet Master sequels, rather than Pinocchio. This Pinocchio wants more than to just be a real boy. He wants to be James’ “best mate” and a real friend, which is achieved by killing the various people who have wronged him in life and gotten in James’ way.
Going against Geppetto’s wishes, James brings Pinocchio to school and chaotic carnage ensues as the student body – particularly James’ bullies – become casualties in this macabre learning experience. The messaging is very heavy-handed, which is not unexpected for a film of this nature, especially one that’s pulling from such a moralistic fairy tale in the first place that’s designed to teach lessons.
To the film’s credit, there are some genuinely creepy and unnerving scenes during the film’s first act when Pinocchio bonds with James and demonstrates a fascination with his anatomy and how they’re different. Pinocchio also acquires a checklist of body parts, skin, teeth, hair, eyes, and items to become a real boy. This, while formulaic, is the right style of creepy for this film. It provides a clear focus and trajectory for what’s to come, but also facilitates a lot of gruesome gore.
There are actually some decent gore effects that are well-executed, even if some of them have weak and unearned setups. Obviously, a film like this is trying to be tongue-in-cheek and doesn’t strive to be taken as high art, but it could work a little harder to build to its gory setpieces instead of just throwing them out there and making it seem like it doesn’t care about anything else. A second pass could have helped refine a lot of these elements and turned this into something truly great, rather than operating like a clunky series of poorly written scenes that are designed to string together exaggerated deaths.
These vicious kills are very Terrifier–coded and, on their own, aren’t bad and should please the gorehounds in the audience. There’s an inspired “nose kill” that Pinocchio Unstrung holds off on, but is worth the wait. Pinocchio Unstrung is arguably the goriest of the TCU films, which is a step in the right direction, even if other elements are lacking. In the end, there’s effort here, and director Frake-Waterfield is genuinely trying, even if some of his instincts are misguided or need to be sharpened. For instance, there’s a running throughline where Pinocchio wishes that he had had a penis.
Robert Englund delivers a committed and satisfying performance as Cricket, Pinocchio’s de facto conscience. However, Frake-Wakefield also includes a ridiculous “Wood Mother” concept, which is another wooden abomination who is there to get in Pinocchio’s head. The Wood Mother is presumably meant to be a Blue Fairy analogue, but she just feels extraneous and an excuse to show off more animatronics. Somehow all this leads into a story about rebirth and immortality as the film broadens its scope, which doesn’t always work in its favor. There are plenty of ideas here that are interesting, but ultimately half-baked.
When it comes to Pinocchio himself, the titular puppet’s design initially feels a little lacking, albeit still creepy. Fortunately, it actively improves throughout the film as Pinocchio builds upon his anatomy and “becomes” more human. It also doesn’t hurt that Jude Evan Lloyd is actually a competent actor and a worthy foil for Pinocchio.
Most importantly, it looks like a real movie and features some compelling lighting, which is more than what some of the earlier Twisted Childhood Universe films can claim.
To this point, Pinocchio Unstrung proudly boasts that the film is all done with practical effects and puppetry, which makes such a difference. There’d be no point in even making this movie if it didn’t commit to this practical authenticity. It’s not just a better movie because of this, but it reflects a respect and passion for the craft that’s lacking in other TCU entries. It’d be very easy to cut corners here, and so it’s appreciated that it puts in the effort and goes the extra mile. There’s also a really effective shadow puppetry introduction that’s reminiscent of 2021’s Candyman and a great way to kick off the movie.
Pinocchio Unstrung gradually finds its rhythm and confidence as it goes on, just like a young boy who is figuring out his way in the world. It develops a genuine personality by its end, and there are some weird, unique scenes that really unexpectedly go off the rails and transcend anything from the other TCU films. The place that the film ends is legitimately shocking and feels completely different than the type of movie that’s initially teased. This sort of radical pivot is worth it and turns Pinocchio Unstrung into something weird and wonderful, even if a lot of it still doesn’t work. It deserves credit for taking such big swings, even when they’re unsuccessful.
Those who were left empty from Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey and its various offshoots may be pleasantly surprised by this. It actually manages to say something about identity, morality, autonomy, and rising above the expectations that are placed on us, which seems like an insane thing to say for a film like this. It’s a morbid, mindless way to spend 80 minutes.
By the end of this experience, Pinocchio Unstrung transforms from a wooden concept into a real horror film.
Pinocchio Unstrung releases in theaters on July 24, 2026.
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