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‘The Front Room’ Review: A24’s Mean-Spirited Hagsploitation Movie Is Neither Scary Nor Funny
With a juvenile handle on aging, Max and Sam Eggers’ genre exercise 'The Front Room' doesn’t deserve Kathryn Hunter’s clever and crafty performance.
Hunched, delirious and sporting a chewy drawl, Hunter craftily plays Solange, the nasty surprise who insinuates herself, not into someone’s body (despite constant and tedious teases, “The Front Room” isn’t a possession-themed supernatural horror), but into her stepson Norman (Andrew Burnap) and his heavily pregnant wife Belinda’s (a convincing Brandy Norwood) modest house. So you’ll spot the “Psycho” wink as soon as Solange’s voice on the phone mutters, “Hello Norman, this is your mother.” And “Rosemary’s Baby” will also be spelled out before your eyes in capital letters when a bunch of eerie-looking white people creepily fawn over Belinda’s bump. There are some atmospheric Mozart and Chopin needle drops throughout, and a pair of inspired montages juxtapose the needs of Belinda’s sweet baby against Solange’s babylike demands, insinuating the hardships of postpartum and the circular nature of life.
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