To recapture the genre that they helped define nearly a century ago, Universal has been actively working over the years to reconstruct their monster movie department, setting out to revive their reputation for making wildly entertaining horror films that hearken back to the studio’s heyday, when they came to be known as the pioneers of a specific kind of filmmaking between the 1930s and early 1950s. It has not been an easy journey, with various stop-and-start scenarios plaguing the studio and its producers. However, they have made another leap at this horror universe, this time in the form of a very loose adaptation of Dracula’s Daughter, a sequel to Tod Browning’s classic vampire yarn that was ostensibly based on a supposedly lost chapter of Bram Stoker’s novel, but was essentially an entirely original work. Bearing the new title of Abigail, and featuring only marginal similarities in terms of plot (whereby we discover that the daughter of the supposedly now-perished Count Dracula is far more bloodthirsty and dangerous as she lures victims into her home, something that her unexpected visitors did not anticipate when agreeing to what is quickly proven to be a treacherous mission in which their survival is not guaranteed), the film still manages to be quite intriguing on a narrative and visual level, even when it is following conventions slightly too closely to be a truly singular work. A brilliantly subversive film that may take some bold swings that perhaps don’t always connect quite as well as we may hope, and genuinely quite terrifying in ways that are difficult to describe (as they play to a more subconscious kind of fear that most of us possess), Abigail attempts to breathe new life into a genre that is becoming overly dense in a lot of cases due to the desire to see more high-concept filmmaking in horror and instead makes it clear that it intends on offering a delightfully perverse and gloriously violent entry, which is sure to be chilling and entertaining in equal measure, a quality that has seemingly become far more scarce than it used to be during the peak of this genre.

The decision as to who should helm this film, which was aiming to be a very different kind of horror film than we usually see in the contemporary landscape, could not have been an easy task, since there is a choice between going with an established name or giving a newcomer a chance to prove themselves, both of which have clear merits. Ultimately, the job went to the directing duo of Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, who may not be household names but are steadily rising within the genre, mainly due to their selection as the filmmakers asked to revive Wes Craven’s Scream series, with the two most recent entries into the genre being handled by the directors, who deserve to be credited for the major success the revival of the franchise has had due to these well-crafted films that don’t rely too much on the concept and more on the overall experience. However, it was the film that brought them mainstream attention that was essential to their selection as directors this film – Ready or Not became a major success and one of the most beloved horror films of the past decade. Abigail is quite close to that film in several ways – structurally, they’re both about a group of people mysteriously spending a night and tasked with hunting down a young woman, as well as in tone and overall filmmaking skill. Yet, this feels like an even more impressive achievement, since they don’t rest on their laurels, and instead choose to pursue an even more complex set of ideas, which are seamlessly woven into the fabric of the story, being present when the plot needs a boost of originality, but also allowing the more common tropes of the genre to shine through. Abigail is a film made by a pair of directors who hold immense reverence for the genre, but also want to forge their own unique visual and narrative style, so this film offers them the space to do both, and through allowing them essentially free-reign (as they were not tasked with crafting a direct remake of the source material), they manage to add another tremendous credit to their steadily-growing body of work.

There is always something valuable about a genre film that dares to forego the opportunity to be original, and instead creatively panders to the previous entries, riffing on the legacy they left behind while offering their perspective into how these stories are told, which is not always successful but are at least somewhat intriguing. Abigail is a very simple film – the premise is as straightforward as it can be, and there is very little done in this film to warrant much discussion in terms of the narrative. Yet, it is the references and overall stylistic inspirations that keep the film captivating. The best way to describe what Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett set out to do with this film is to take inspiration from the “manor horror”, whereby a group of people find themselves trapped in a usually stately home, where they discover sinister forces and have to work together to overcome them (perhaps the most famous examples of this are The Old Dark House and The House on Haunted Hill, both seemingly being referenced, even if only in subtle ways) with a traditional slasher horror, particularly in the use of the final girl trope and the usual twists and turns we’d find with a film in which our team of protagonists slowly gets whittled down as the forces prowl. Tonally, the directors hit the right tempo for the story, turning Abigail into a film that is as hilarious as it is terrifying. Horror has always had a place for dark humour, and while we have grown to expect a lot of horror films to be quite dour affairs, Abigail is rich with the most eccentric, pitch-black comedy, which is not necessarily there for our amusement or to break the tension, but rather to underline the absolute absurdity of this narrative, which is only made stronger through this sense of self-awareness. Tonally and in terms of the filmmaking itself, this film is immensely entertaining and proves that Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett are major young filmmakers who are on the precipice of redefining the genre as a whole.

As proven by over half a century of slasher horror, there is something genuinely captivating about stories that centre on a motley crew of individuals who find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, usually accidentally running afoul of some sinister and bloodthirsty killer that has very little hesitation to making victims of all these intruders. This premise can work with even the most inexperienced of actors, so you can imagine the delight when we find that the film is populated by a genuinely fantastic cast. Abigail is mostly led by a character portrayed by Melissa Barrera, who has had major success as the lead of the directors’ revival of the Scream franchise, while she is arguably playing the least interesting character, by being the only sane and rational person in the crew, she is still a captivating screen presence and a fantastic lead. Dan Stevens, the very definition of a character actor trapped in the body of a dashing leading man, turns in yet another tremendous performance as the morally ambigious leader of this crew whose subtle villainy is a highlight throughout the film. Kathryn Newton, Angus Cloud (in one of his final performances before his untimely passing), Kevin Durand and Will Catlett are all fantastic as the remaining members of the crew, whereas Giancarlo Esposito and Matthew Goode have fantastic small roles as the major players in what turns out to be a perverse game of cat-and-mouse. However, it is the titular character that steals the show, with the profoundly gifted Alisha Weir proving precisely why she is well on her way to becoming one of the most talented young actors of her generation, and with this delightfully deranged performance, she proves her ability to push herself, despite being much younger than her co-stars that her character terrorizes. It’s possible that Weir delivers the most chilling and unsettling child performance in a horror film since Linda Blair in The Exorcist, and she immediately becomes an iconic villain, something this film utilizes extremely well, this factor becoming one of the most integral assets to an overall exceptional production.

Horror is a genre that has always occupied a strange place in the cinematic culture – so much of film is based around the foundation laid by films in this genre, but yet it’s also one that is often disregarded and viewed as an acquired taste, despite its influence on all other genres in one way or another, even if only marginally. It is also one in which every filmmaker wants to push boundaries further than ever before, which simply is not feasible, since some horror films need to rely on well-worn conventions, and a truly smart one will be able to take inspiration from existing works and turn it into something far more enticing based solely on how it restructures familiar elements. Abigail is a tremendous film for this reason alone – it takes common ideas and redefines exactly what it is that makes them so terrifying. A mercilessly entertaining blend of gothic horror and contemporary slasher fiction, it feels as if Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett are putting in a concerted effort to combine different styles, doing so in a way that feels like both a homage and a truly innovative entry into a genre that is not always allowed to be this experimental, especially with major studios providing the backing, since much like any other genre, even horror films are required to meet market standards. These qualities are kept quite subtle, and we find that Abigail, as simple as it may be, still leaves a major impression, and proves to be a far more entertaining piece of cinema than we may have initially anticipated based on a cursory glance. Daring and provocative, hilarious and unsettling in equal measure, and simply quite inventive in how it approaches common themes, Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett have made a tremendous film, and continue to showcase their skillfulness that will hopefully continue to help shape this generation of horror films, returning it to its more nasty, sinister roots that may not be particularly revolutionary in concept, but are reliable in offering an endless stream of terror, which is exactly what we all desire from time to time, and to which they are more than happy to oblige.