Horror has always been a genre that reflects its times. In the wake of #MeToo and an increased focus on the experiences and the prominence of women, both in the film industry and more generally, we have seen female writers and directors seek to fold those themes into genre cinema. Perhaps the most notable examples being the recent remakes of Black Christmas (directed by Sophia Takal) and The Craft (directed by Zoe Lister-Jones). With Lucky, writer/star Brea Grant and director Natasha Kermani (Imitation Girl) aren’t reinterpreting one specific text through that lens, rather they’re filtering a whole subgenre: the slasher.
May (Grant) is a writer just finishing her book tour. One night, she wakes to see a masked man outside her house. When she wakes her husband Ted (Dhruv Uday Singh) he seems nonplussed, confusing May by telling her ‘that’s the guy who shows up every night to try to kill us’. As Ted said, the attacks continue night after night, the same pattern always unfolding; May injures or kills the assailant, but as soon as she turns away to call the Police, his body vanishes. The attacks continue, at first night after night, but then even during the day, and May’s world gets more surreal as she tries to get help.
At first, there is an almost absurdist feel to Lucky; a Groundhog Day like loop of attacks, disappearing corpses and encounters with a cop (Larry Cedar) who, if not entirely brushing them off, doesn’t do a lot to listen to or address May’s concerns. The play with genre convention here is fun, especially the way the film acknowledges that the body of ‘The Man’ vanishes the instant that May looks away from it. However, as we get deeper into the film and it begins to develop its themes, the absurdist touches become less funny than they are disturbing.
Lucky works as an unconventional slasher, but it’s a lot more, and arguably a lot more important, than that. Rather than just having it be a theme you can engage with if you want to, Grant and Kermani weave the film’s politics into its every thread; the plot is powered by the theme and vice versa. It’s a disturbingly timely film (indeed I saw many of things it is saying echoed by commentary on an ongoing murder case when I logged on to Twitter minutes after watching the film), but as heavy as the themes are the fim often wears them lightly, making it a highly entertaining, as well as thought provoking, watch.