They Come at Night

Terror and tragedy onscreen can frequently cause the audience to detach emotionally and view the suffering characters as two-dimensional objects. Preventing this detachment is the primary role of a filmmaker who attempts to create films about subjects like the Holocaust, the Rape of Nanking, or El Salvadoran death squads, and Lindy Laub does so admirably with her first feature film, They Come at Night. Laub’s technique is to anchor the terror experienced by survivor Maria (Carillo) through the more conventional life of Sarah (Williams), Maria’s therapist. Interweaving stark black-and-white flashbacks of Maria’s terror with Sarah’s daily struggle to juggle her career and home life, Laub ties the viewer so deeply into the story that emotional detachment is impossible. Carillo’s performance aids this effort superbly; she speaks volumes with little more than facial expressions, posture and bearing, and simple breathing patterns. Such visible aspects of Maria’s suffering keep the viewer engaged, cheering internally as Carillo’s eyes reflect Maria’s transition from her suicidal state to her embrace of the desire to live.