Speak No Evil (Gæsterne): Limited Edition

Director: Christian Tafdrup
Screenplay: Christian Tafdrup, Mads Tafdrup
Starring: Morten Burian, Sidsel Siem Koch, Fedja van Huêt, Karina Smulders, Liva Forsberg, Marius Damslev
Country: Denmark/Netherlands
Running Time: 98m
Year: 2022

Well. This is awkward. I reviewed the previous release of Speak No Evil and concluded I wouldn’t be watching it again. And yet here we are.

The film is a thought-provoking and straight-up just provoking story; you can read my original, unedited review below. Satisfied my thoughts were provoked as far as I wished, thank you very much, I strongly recommended it as at least a must-see-once. The DVD though was dreadful; burned in sub-titles and no extras. Arrow have corrected that oversight, treating this unique movie with a classy Limited Edition. Now it’s a proper boutique release with a commentary that makes it worth revisiting.

A Danish couple and their daughter befriend an enigmatic Dutch man, his wife and virtually mute son, while on holiday in Italy. Some time later, the Dutch family invite their new friends to spend the weekend with them. The encounter is awkward from the start and soon the Danish couple are being manipulated by their hosts, who are also prone to abusing their distressed son.

When Sam Peckinpah answered a viewer’s letter of complaint regarding not enjoying Straw Dogs, the director contested that it was not a film to enjoy. “I wanted you to look into your own soul”, he replied.

Christian Tafdrup’s ice-cold social satire Speak No Evil (Gæsterne, in Danish, or The Guests) shares a great deal of DNA with Peckinpah’s film. And there is a moment late in the film so profoundly troubling it rivals the notorious rape scene in Straw Dogs. Quite frankly, writing this review is a form of therapy. This is a film where you might admire the achievement but wonder why you watched the thing at all.

Both films, along with the devastating Don’t Look Now, embed their horrors in slow-boiling adult-themed subtext. This is a different track to the juvenile gory one-upmanship much of the horror genre engages in. Speak No Evil is a brilliant film, but right up until the third act, the narrative is inviting us to have an opinion; too late, we realise we are as trapped and as complicit as Bjorn.

The first two acts at least feature some dark humour in a series of perfectly nuanced passive, and micro, aggressions, underpinned by some cultural allegories. You’ll recognise many of these moments and the film brings them to a crescendo. Enough is enough. Bjorn and Louisa take Agnes and discreetly leave in the dead of night. And so, a question for parents; would you go back for the bloody stuffed rabbit? After a brief reset in the awkward relationship, the jaw-dropping reality is revealed.

The last act is a more straightforward horror, though expertly underplayed. It’s fuelled by everything that came before. It buries itself under your skin. We’ve been complicit, all along, and we suffer for it.

The film suffers some contrivance to get to that point and the impact depends on how invested you are. The superb naturalistic performances always convince regardless of context. You will either be resigned to how the events are unfolding, regardless of your opinion on whose fault it is -“villain” is a matter of perspective- or calling foul because too many opportunities for the families to literally change course have been lost in the pursuit of the subtext. Indeed, in retrospect I question why Patrick and Karin executed their plan so slowly; again, if you are so inclined to buy into the whole endeavour, the answer is chilling.

In any case, Tafdrup’s commitment and singular focus is astonishing. And I can applaud him knowing I am unlikely to watch his film again. I am interested in seeing the remake, precisely because Tafdrup criticised it for not sharing the convictions of the original. I would argue that his own version could afford some loosening up. Also, a cynical Hollywood remake that pulls some punches might work as an indulgent pseudo-sequel to help with the therapy after watching the original.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a film so brutally effective. It takes no prisoners, including us. Meanwhile, if you need me, I’ll be watching Bluey on repeat while waiting for my faith in humanity to thaw.

VIDEO

The transfer of the film into HD is obviously a big upgrade from the previous release. Taken on its own terms, the photography of the film is worth seeing at its best. It’s a muted palette for much of the runtime, with more colourful and vibrant scenes at the beginning and end. I mean the very end. Not that bit in the quarry, which is the polar opposite of ‘vibrant’. On that point though, the darker scenes remain striking and vivid.

EXTRA FEATURES

This is a superb limited edition and a huge improvement over the first DVD. We now have a HD presentation with correctly configured subtitles, audio commentary, deleted scenes and an excellent video essay. The package also includes a booklet with more writing on the film.

• High Definition (1080p) Blu-ray presentation
• Original DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround audio
• Brand new audio commentary with co-writer/director Christian Tafdrup and co-writer Mads Tafdrup, recorded exclusively for Arrow Video in 2025
• Six never-before-seen deleted scenes with optional commentary by co-writer/director Christian Tafdrup and co-writer Mads Tafdrup
• Tragedy of Manners, a brand new video essay by filmmaker Jen Handorf investigating the illusions of safety within civility
• Original trailer
• Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Time Tomorrow
• Illustrated collectors’ booklet featuring new writing on the film by Tori Potenza and Natasha Ball