Knock At the Cabin: Posing the Right Questions
Great philosophical debate comes from an impossible question. It allows for such great debate because it demands nuanced and complete analysis. Examination of all perspectives, reflection and questioning are all in the process. We are all aware of this, I’m far from breaking news with this observation, because we do it subconsciously. When posed with any question or situation, we place ourselves as the decision maker. Running through the options, processes, and fallout for our choices. Doing a quick cost benefit analysis to determine what is the right move. Cinema often attempts this exact philosophical wrestling match. The allure is obvious, deeper emotional and intellectual connection creates an everlasting experience. Its appeal also seems obtainable. By posing the right question you allow the audience to do the heavy lifting. Where cinema fails, much like all forms of storytelling, is with meeting the threshold of what is actually an impossible question. The wrong question feels like a cheap intellectual exercise, that then robs the film of stakes, meaning and audience connection.
This dance is just one of the many (many) things that makes filmmaking so hard. It’s also one of the things so striking about M. Night Shyamalan’s new film, Knock at the Cabin. Shyamalan is one of my generation’s most interesting, talented and polarizing filmmakers. His skill is undeniable and his resume, while full of ups and downs, has some of the most spectacular highs we’ve seen. With him, you get this unique situation in which each new film brings about an entire examination of his filmography. There is also an expectation that each Shyamalan film will surprise us in a way that no film has before. It’s an unfair expectation. Nevertheless, Shyamalan is back, riding a run of success and this time he brings with him possibly his most daring thematic film yet.
Knock at the Cabin carries with it a tight hour and 40 minute runtime, which is great counter programming in case you may be catching up on this year’s Oscar movies. More importantly, it means Shyamalan wastes no time getting into this film. After a short, and quite beautiful scene with Dave Bautista’s Leonard and Kristen Cui’s Wen, we get right to our confrontation. A confrontation that downplays the thrilling or horrifying nature of the situation watching the intruders easily invade the house. On a side note, it’s nice to see this because it does simulate, at least in this aspect, what would most likely happen in this situation. Once inside, our 4 intruders led by the aforementioned Leonard, pose the impossible question this entire film is framed around. You have to kill a member of your family to prevent the apocalypse.
On its face, the question doesn’t really seem that impossible. The likelihood of them being right, as opposed to these intruders being insane, prejudice, or both is smaller than minuscule. Such is the brilliance of this setup, which the credit goes to the author, Paul Trembly whose book, “The Cabin at the End of the World” inspired this film adaptation. There are many routes Shyamalan could take, most of which are compelling. But where he goes thematically is as interesting as the set up itself. It is worth mentioning that the film does take ample time to explore the absurdity of the situation. Disbelief is clutched by our family, but mostly Andrew (Ben Aldridge), as the saving grace from this situation. It’s this disbelief that assists in making Knock at the Cabin’s themes so powerful.
A major theme underlining the film is the idea of faith and belief. What does one believe, why, and how does that belief impact others? Most obviously you see this with the intruders, Leonard, Redmond (Rupert Grint), Sabrina (Nikki Anika-Bird), and Adriane (Abby Quinn). These harbingers of death are incredible representations of faith. Their belief in the apocalypse is far fetched and easily dismissible, however as each character grows they seem less crazy and more earnest. They become people and not their beliefs, and that opens the space for complexity and exploration.
The family in the cabin, Eric (Jonathan Groff), Andrew and their daughter carry their own faith. Wen’s faith is in her parents, much like most children that age. She believes in them and that drives her decisions and reactions. That, ultimately, is a reflection of her parents’ faith because it’s tangible. It’s a belief in something that can be seen and understood. Their reality as a gay couple and one that adopts a daughter, creates skepticism. It’s this skepticism combined with a tangible belief structure that opposes the faith of the intruders.
This dichotomy reflects the very nature of faith in our society now. Everyone believes something because even the belief in nothing is a belief. What happens when different faiths are diametrically opposed? Knock at the Cabin explores this very idea. Granted, it is rare that one side has tied up the other to force them to listen as is the case here, but the force feeding of ideas to the unwilling is certainly an aspect of this dichotomy. Shyamalan presents this in its most complex and compelling. Taking all of the stereotypes and typical beliefs of each side, Shyamalan subverts each by then developing the character past it. Because there is nowhere for any of us to go we are given an immense amount of time to fully explore each character. That exploration draws us further from the violent and improper interaction framing the story, and closer to the more character driven philosophical study this film creates.
While this conflict could be enough to drive the film to its climax, it levels up and pulls out an even more compelling (and useful) aspect of this conflict. When you are diametrically opposed to someone, how do you get them to believe what you do? Here is where everything gets sticky, including the previous sentence. The idea of conversion is complicated and can even be problematic. However, in the case of Knock at the Cabin, conversion is necessary. For Andrew, Eric and Wen it means sparing their lives and keeping their family intact. For the intruders, it’s saving the world from apocalypse, and their individual lives. The film rests on this theme and allows it to fully develop into a sprawling exploration of this idea. So you get the conflict of what is a “fact”, when the intruders show a breaking news story as evidence for their apocalyptic claim. Then you have Andrew, who is positioned as sane and rational, using conspiracy theorist vernacular to discredit the news story. A clear representation of modern discourse.
In this time, throughout the second act, is where Knock at the Cabin is operating at its highest level. The story twists and turns come from spending more and more time in the midst of this struggle. We see characters wrestle with their beliefs and what they hear and see. New information, such as the possible violent encounter between Raymond and Andrew, only operate to muddy the waters further. Shyamalan takes us to a place in which this once ridiculous question becomes a truly impossible one to answer. It’s right then, where we are offered a solution. Not to the apocalyptic one but to the philosophical one. How do you convert someone to your side that is diametrically opposed to it? You don’t.
It’s not about conversion because people will make their own choices in the end for their own reasons. It’s about the exchanging of ideas, the sharing of perspectives. Draped in a crude, violent and wholly unacceptable package, the message is that communication is the only way forward. Ultimately, this family made their choice. But it wasn’t to spare the intruders, or because they were convinced of something. They made their choice for love. A love of family, and each other that far surpasses anything else. Shyamalan makes a lot of choices in the final act that support this very hopeful message and it’s that message that sticks after the credits roll. Regardless of what one believes, we don’t know the journey they went on to land at that belief. A part of being human is allowing for that journey to be shared, no matter where you end up at the end.