It’s not horror, but Pulitzer Prize-winning author Daniel Kraus‘s survival thriller novel Whalefall remains one of the most intense, terrifying novels I’ve ever read. It’s also a rather challenging novel to adapt, as it centers on a young man trapped in the belly of a whale for almost its entirety, alone with his internal thoughts and depleting oxygen.
Yet director Brian Duffield(No One Will Save You), who co-adapts the novel with Kraus, does just that, translating the white-knuckle intensity of an implausible scenario to screen with all of its emotional resonance intact.
Resident Evil star Austin Abrams finds himself in another insane survival scenario as Jay Gardiner, a college student struggling to cope with the suicide of his ocean-obsessed father, Mitt (Josh Brolin). The coastal community loved Mitt, as did Jay’s mom (Elisabeth Shue) and sisters (Emily Rudd and Jane Levy), but Jay’s relationship with Mitt as his only son was far more contentious. So much so that they weren’t on speaking terms when Mitt fell ill, leaving Jay with a lot of guilt and baggage in the wake of his death. To process it, Jay embarks on a solo scuba dive in the futile hopes of recovering even part of Mitt’s remains from the sea.
Instead, Jay gets swept into a battle between a giant squid and a sperm whale, and the whale swallows them both.
That one sentence sets up an entire feature’s worth of nail-biting tension and harrowing survival thrills, as this wild predicament brings a series of gripping challenges that include depleting oxygen, traumatic pressure changes, and pesky things like digestive mucus and stomach acid. Duffield ensures every bit of it is felt, too, with claustrophobic practical sets that see Abram’s character frequently maneuvering to avoid getting completely “chewed” and digested.
The sound design is sharp and incredible, further immersing audiences in the visceral nature of this particularly wild survival thriller. Bioluminescence serves as clever lighting, but the natural darkness of being trapped inside a whale at deeper depths means that one dimly lit theatre bulb or TV setting could easily tip large stretches of this movie into unseeable territory. It’s a minor observation, considering just how cinematic Duffield makes this unique story. The film’s climax instills as much awe as emotional catharsis, for its stunning marine vision of community and letting go.
That’s also helped by flashback scenes that flesh out the father-son relationship fueling this exercise in unrelenting suspense. Brolin makes these fleeting moments count, ensuring a profound depth of love lurks beneath the surface of Mitt’s tough-love exterior. Mitt tearfully confesses to an infant Jay in one scene that he will screw him up, but it’s only out of love and a paternal desire to prepare him for survival. It’s the emotional crux of Jay’s entire journey, the ultimate test of a harsh father’s unrelenting lessons.
But Whalefall rests almost entirely on the shoulders of Abrams, and the rising talent has already proven adept at navigating the physical challenges of a propulsive, escalating survival scenario without sacrificing character. Here, the emotional stakes are even higher, and the physical challenges just as daunting. Jay’s interiority is brought to the surface, giving Abrams more opportunity to showcase his range. Instead of leaning into the absurdity of the premise with humor, Abrams mines it for all its daunting terror and emotional devastation.
Whalefall unlocks new fears, even if the likelihood of being swallowed by a whale is astronomically small. Even smaller are the odds of survival. That Jay, raised to dive by a nautical father, knows this acutely only contributes to the unwavering edge-of-your-seat tension. It’s not a horror movie, but Duffield and Kraus’s cinematic, deeply affecting adaptation unnerves all the same.
Whalefall releases in theaters on October 16.
