96 min | R | June 25, 2021 | IFC Films
Finn Wheeler is the new forest ranger in a tiny town that hates itself over a pipeline deal. A snowstorm traps everyone in the local inn, and something with claws starts picking them off. The werewolf is the least of their problems.
Finn Wheeler arrives in Beaverfield as the new forest ranger and finds a town that has already decided to hate itself. A pipeline deal has split the residents into two camps. One side wants the buyout money. The other wants the land left alone. A snowstorm knocks out the power and herds everyone into the local inn, where something starts shredding generators and killing pets. The monster is an excuse. These people were going to turn on each other anyway, and the film knows it.
Sam Richardson plays Finn as a relentlessly decent man who keeps trying to de-escalate a room that wants blood. His instinct is to apologize and mediate, and the comedy comes from how badly that instinct serves him here. Milana Vayntrub plays Cecily, the town mail carrier, with a fast mouth and a willingness to needle everyone equally. She and Richardson build an easy rapport that gives the chaos a center. Michael Chernus plays Pete Anderton, the smug pipeline salesman, and Wayne Duvall plays Sam Parker as the loudest voice for selling out. Catherine Curtin, George Basil, and Sarah Burns round out an ensemble where everyone gets one sharp character note and commits to it.
Josh Ruben directs from a script by Mishna Wolff, who adapts a Ubisoft virtual reality game into something that barely resembles its source. Ruben keeps the action confined to the inn and a few snowbound exteriors, and the single location does the work that a bigger creature feature would waste on spectacle. He holds the werewolf offscreen for most of the film and lets suspicion do the scaring. The camera stays close in the inn’s cramped rooms, so every accusation lands in someone’s face. The snow outside seals the town off and turns the comedy claustrophobic. The horror beats arrive on schedule and the kills are staged for shock rather than gore.
This is a horror comedy that actually balances both halves, which is rarer than it sounds. The mystery holds together and the jokes never undercut the dread. The political satire is broad but it has teeth, because the pipeline fight reads as a town deciding that money matters more than its neighbors. Richardson anchors the whole thing with a sweetness that the movie keeps testing. The result is a tight, mean little ensemble piece that works the room and gets out clean.