In Helina Reijn’s riotous Bodies Bodies Bodies, multiple storms are brewing on the night of a “hurricane party” being held at David’s (Pete Davidson) family mansion. A group of friends have gathered here to reconnect over a night of debaucherous fun. But for these rich, spoiled early twentysomethings, copious amounts of booze and coke only ensure that the emotional turmoil that ensues will leave even more wreckage in its wake than the natural disaster on the horizon. Add in the titular, murder-themed party game and the slow simmer of pettiness, jealousy, and animosity begins to boil over just as things take a turn for the deadly.
“Bodies Bodies Bodies” involves a designated “killer” murdering other players in the dark, and prior to the lights being turned off, Sarah DeLappe’s script offers telling glimpses of everyone’s dysfunctions, neatly anticipating all the ways in which a friend circle will be further fractured. For one, David’s fragile masculinity is immediately threatened by the 40-year-old Tinder stud, Greg (Lee Pace), who the bubbly Alice (Rachel Sennott) has brought to the party. Elsewhere, David’s aspiring actress girlfriend, Emma (Chase Sui Wonders), is so prone to teary outbursts that it isn’t long before her friends are questioning the genuineness of her emotions.
Anxieties rise even more once the game begins, as David and Emma’s bickering turns into a full-blown argument that puts their incompatibility into stark relief. And after one character turns up dead, everyone’s paranoia and frustrations begin to match the intensity of the high-speed winds of the looming hurricane. With the only car on the premises having a dead battery and electricity and internet now out, the helpless crew are left with no viable ways of escape and devoid of the online means of communication that have long been their lifeline.
Like the bourgeois dinner guests from Luis Buñuel’s The Exterminating Angel, the characters’ physical entrapment feels almost supernaturally imposed and quickly breaks down the social order that’s kept everyone from pronouncing their own savage opinions of one another. While the actual violence continues to escalate, the brutal insults, spilled secrets, and intersocial dramatics ultimately cut deeper than even the katana blade responsible for the first death.
These verbal attacks are often as hilarious as they are pointed, with the dialogue distinctly attuned to the Gen Z mindset, such as the way that it’s influenced by social media and identity politics. Rachel Sennot, a standout in a uniformly terrific cast, gets the best of these zingers, such as when Alice gets defensive after discovering that the jaded Jordan (Myha’la Herrold) only hate-listens to her podcast, or when she defends Emma from David’s accusations, saying, “Don’t call her a psychopath; that is so ableist.” Where this sort of poking fun at Gen Z lingo can often feel broad or forced, here it’s organically weaved into people’s conversations, benefiting greatly from the loose, improvisational feel of the performances.
This irreducible blend of comedy and suspense keeps Bodies Bodies Bodies feeling consistently fresh even as the film inevitably shifts into slasher mode in the final act. During that stretch, the filmmakers confidently straddle the genre fence, playing things straight enough for the comedy to feel grounded and effortless yet heightened enough for the suspense to have a rough-edged quality that perpetually keeps the audience on their toes.
Bodies Bodies Bodies is also impeccably shot by Jasper Wolf, whose long, handheld tracking shots gradually make the mansion seem more labyrinthine. The space is made all the more disorienting as the only light sources at the characters’ disposal are glow sticks and the flashlights on their phones. Much of their fear and confusion stems from this forced disconnection from the online world, which not only leaves them with no means of calling for help, but stripped of the buffer that protects them from one another’s basest instincts. By the time power and, more importantly, the internet is restored, it’s clear to the survivors—and by extension the audience—that with friends like these, who needs enemies?
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