Speak No Evil

One of those rare films that genuinely feels evil, genuinely shocked me to my core, which is hard to do these days. Immaculately acted, genuinely disturbing, gorgeously shot, and somehow darkly/bleakly funny at times. But man it does not hold back. Love it.

Disturbing and sarcastic, the film leads us to reflect on the difficulty of saying "no". Often, the feeling of invisibility seems more comfortable than facing the discomfort of being inconvenienced. The fear of displeasing people or making mistakes because of unfamiliar circumstances can result in accepting unwanted situations or even being completely powerless to react. The narrative intensifies this discomfort to the extreme, and goes further, with numerous embarrassing situations - because fish are also meat, anyway. The development of the characters is excellent; each of them contributes to the dynamics of the story, which unfolds in a surprising and escalating way. In addition, the film establishes a dialog with the viewer, treating us as accomplices, victims and decision-makers. After all, everything happens because we allow it to happen. It's a deeply despairing, pessimistic and impactful experience.

Christian Tafdrup’s “Speak No Evil” delivers a psychological thriller that unsettles, deconstructs, and provokes deep reflections on our tendency to yield in the name of politeness. Without relying on cheap scares or bloody clichés, the film meticulously builds a psychological horror that dives into the gray areas of human behavior. It doesn’t let you feel comfortable for even a second and unapologetically refuses to offer any solace by the end.

The plot, at first glance, seems simple. Bjørn (Morten Burian) and his family meet Patrick (Fedja van Huêt) and Karin (Karina Smulders) during a vacation in Italy. The dynamic between them appears friendly, with Patrick taking on the role of a charming, uninhibited man that Bjørn clearly admires. This casual encounter evolves into an apparently harmless invitation: a visit to Patrick and Karin’s home in the Netherlands. What starts as an opportunity to strengthen bonds quickly spirals into a nightmare as the hosts subtly and disturbingly push boundaries.

The script, co-written by Tafdrup and his brother Mads, excels in its tension-building. The initial transgressions—ignoring Louise’s (Sidsel Siem Koch) vegetarian diet or forcing their daughter to share a room with the hosts’ son—seem minor, almost excusable. But it’s precisely this initial plausibility that makes the film so unsettling. Every choice Bjørn and Louise make, every moment they decide not to confront their hosts, reinforces how we trap ourselves in the fear of seeming impolite.

The camera complements Tafdrup’s naturalistic approach, using soft lighting and understated framing to heighten discomfort without overtly signaling that something is wrong. The idyllic setting of Patrick and Karin’s home contrasts sharply with the mounting tension, making the horror feel even more tangible. There are no monsters lurking in the shadows, but the forced smiles and awkward silences are as menacing as any supernatural creature.

The cast deserves immense praise for their incredibly committed performances. Morten Burian captures Bjørn’s journey from admiration to despair, while Fedja van Huêt delivers a magnetic performance as Patrick, masterfully oscillating between surface-level charm and veiled menace. Karina Smulders, as Karin, balances an outward warmth with a chilling detachment, making her character as enigmatic as she is terrifying.

While the film is masterful in manipulating emotions, its refusal to provide detailed explanations for Patrick and Karin’s motives might frustrate some viewers. However, this narrative choice preserves the mystery and underscores the idea that evil, in its purest form, doesn’t need justification. It simply exists, often hidden behind masks of normalcy.

The film’s climax is a masterclass in direction, driving the audience toward a devastating and unavoidable conclusion. Tafdrup isn’t afraid to push his characters—and the viewers—into unbearably dark and uncomfortable places. The ending, cruel in its execution, defies any expectation of redemption or catharsis. It’s a gut punch that leaves you frozen as the credits roll.

“Speak No Evil” is not an easy film to watch, and that’s precisely its strength. Tafdrup crafts a disturbing portrait of how civility can be weaponized, exploiting our insecurities and deepest fears. It’s a work that unsettles because it forces us to confront our own choices: how far would we go to avoid confrontation? And in doing so, what are we sacrificing? One of the most impactful and intellectually provocative films, “Speak No Evil” leaves an indelible mark—the kind that lingers long after the screen goes dark.

For me, a horror movie meets its purpose when it makes you feel something in your gut, in this case, it made me feel quite an uncomfortable feeling. Bad decisions have bad consequences. Very well acted, and while it's a slow burn on the first act, you'll get your reward on the end of the second act, and definitely on the third and shocking act. Quite unsettling movie, but I loved it.

I didn't knew about social horror but i think it's a pretty great niche ! Love that film, nearly perfect

Jesus... Tense movie from start to finish. Very hard to watch. Fuck the bunny bro. Great thriller

Much better than the American remake 2024, wish the American one had kept thi ending.

This is a `superb` movie., I can appreciate and relate to the frustrating portrayal of the spineless parents, and it’s both hilarious and thought-provoking. - Yes I hate the movie, but that is the point, and I just think it’s brilliant.

Sorry but f:asterisk_symbol:ck that bunny doll, you don’t go back for that shit if this is happening in real life.