Get Away

NOW IN THEATERS! Not since Midsommar has poor Sweden been as maliciously depicted as in Steffen Haars’s insane horror-comedy Get Away. And by “insane,” I do mean certifiably bat-sh*t crazy. Here’s something you haven’t seen before, masquerading as something you have 1,000 times. It may be a one-trick pony, but it’s well worth the ride when the pony is this unhinged.

The Smiths – Richard (Nick Frost, who also wrote the film), his wife, Susan (Aisling Bea), and their young adult children – embark on a vacation to the cursed Swedish island Svalta with no hotels and a dark history of violence. “I promise you, you will not be welcome on the island,” a particularly menacing waiter informs them. Everyone stares at them on the ferry threateningly. A commune of borderline-deranged/feral, face-licking (!) folk greets our heroes upon arrival, basically telling them to fu*k off.

This doesn’t seem to bother the family. They want to see the commune’s cursed play Karantän, dating back centuries to a particularly horrific event. Something to do with Susan’s great-great-great-grandfather. They settle into their Air Bnb, where someone was once beheaded. Things only turn worse: the commune tries to force them out with frightening masks and dead animals; coffins are hauled away; a detective enters the picture; and an especially crazed individual observes the Smiths on multiple screens.

“…a demented, elaborately staged performance, and a wildly graphic forest bloodbath…”

Why, one would wonder, did the Smiths pick this island as their getaway destination, a place from which one would normally want to… get away (note the title’s clever play on words here)? Surrounded by a murderous sect, they splash around like they’re in Cancun. No spoilers here. It all results in – you guessed it – Karantän, a demented, elaborately staged performance, and a wildly graphic forest bloodbath.

Haars and Frost maintain a well-calibrated balance of hilarity and horror. “Cocaine and fat dicks,” may be the funniest line of 2024. “Our review will be less than favorable,” Richard threatens the Air BnB owner. “Don’t call Daddy an egg,” Susan deadpans. There’s a heavy wallop of cheekiness that’s distinctly British, mixed in with an almost Bergman-esque gloom that’s, well, very Swedish.

The actors are all splendid, especially Frost and Bea as the leads. They instantly establish a believable rapport, and their sense of timing is superb. The cinematography is equally impressive, immersing the viewer in the foggy gloom of the Swedish island. For a low-budget genre flick, it looks and sounds great.

It may not make profound statements or reach for cinematic grandeur. Certain questions remain, and all the expository bits involving the commune evilly scheming slow down the pace. Yet, when it works, propelled by electronic band Hybrid’s eerie score, the committed performances, and the absolute nuttiness of it all, Get Away fires on all cylinders.