Fitting for a year in which global politics is pulling us kicking and screaming into the past, the first great movie of 2024 is a Paleolithic-era thriller about a tribal fear of “the other” and grotesque hypermasculinity.

Please note that I didn’t say Out of Darkness is good.

It isn’t.

It is underlined, bolded, capital-G Great. The kind of exhilarating, surprising movie everyone swears “doesn’t get made anymore.” They do, but you have to hunt and gather them. I have hunted. Now gather round.

This is 90-minutes of atmospheric perfection and meticulous execution. The artistry is palpable, from the invented language that’s spoken to the hypnotic score. It’s the embodiment of why I can’t stop myself from continuing as a film critic. Had I not been forced to find something to review this week, I may have missed it. I would have been the worse for it.

Director Andrew Cumming and writer Ruth Greenberg strip naked the brutality of humanity’s stumble into society. A dudebro caveman, Adem (Chuku Modu), and his pregnant wife, Ave (Iola Evans), are joined by Adem’s son, Heron (Luna Mwezi), Adem’s brother, Geirr (Kit Young), and two tag-a-longs: an older dudebro caveman, Odal (Arno Luening), and a teenaged girl, Beyah (Safia Oakley-Green). The six sit around a campfire optimistically describing their desire to settle a new land.

All fires turn to ash.

Nothing will grow. Adem and Geirr can’t find anything to hunt. Ave is starving and struggling as she nears childbirth. Odal taunts Adem’s futile leadership. Beyah and Geirr detest Adem’s brutality but are helpless before it. Then something takes Heron in the night. Fears of the unknown take physical form, and the fight for survival becomes a literal battle against something in the dark.

As much about our inherent addiction and compulsion to be afraid as it is a tragedy about how we always, always, always meet the unknown with fists, Out of Darkness wears the trappings of horror like a bloody-fur coat, but it really isn’t a genre film. At least not that genre. It’s retelling the past as the terror of the present.

Oakley-Green is the standout, as Beyah is all savage suffering, capable of shrieking with silent glances and flinches when she’s not, you know, literally shrieking. To take nothing away from the actress, the consistency across literally every performance is a testimony to Cumming’s promise. To orchestrate this ensemble acting in his debut narrative feature feels almost unfair. Greenberg’s screenplay is economical and efficient in a way that palpably respects the audience’s attention span and ability to grok the grand themes implied.

I could go on.

I should go on. Because it is invigorating to see something so fresh crafted from the oldest possible source material. It is the kind of singular experience you only get from the light of the silver screen casting out the darkness. Am I overdoing it? Fair enough.

I loved Out of Darkness. I will champion Out of Darkness. In 10 months or so, you’ll see this on my Best of 2024 list.

Grade = A+

Other Critical Voices to Consider

Victoria Luxford at Empire says “The plot’s patriarchal undertones, as well as Oakley-Green’s determination, has echoes of 2022’s Prey, with more dirt under its fingernails.”

Carla Hay at Culture Mix says “It’s a cautionary tale about how people who fear monsters sometimes fail to see the biggest threats can come from within themselves.”

Travis Hopson at Punch Drunk Critics says “Working with a minimal budget, Cumming makes smart use of lighting, sound, and shadow to mask the deadly creature. The Scottish Highlands are intimidating in the best of circumstances, but they are downright terrifying when the flicker of firelight is all there is to go by.”


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