Few people have had as good a past few years in horror as Radio Silence. Following the breakout success of Ready Or Not, the filmmaking collective set its sights towards an ambitious goal: taking the reins from the late Wes Craven and delivering a pair of Scream remake/sequel films. Though the franchise’s future may currently be in peril, Scream and Scream VI were undeniable hits both at the box office and with fans, further cementing Radio Silence’s place in horror history and establishing Melissa Barera as a modern-day scream queen.

Now, with two rock-solid franchise installments in the rearview (and an uncertain future, having reportedly exited Scream 7), directing duo Tyler Gillett and Matt Bettielli-Olpin have set their sights on conquering a new pillar of horror: Universal monsters. Though Abigail may be plagued by structural issues and a mixed bag of supporting characters, a pair of compelling leads in Barera and Alisha Weir give this vampire horror-comedy a formidable bite.

Starring Barrera, Weir, Dan Stevens, Kathryn Newton, Giancarlo Esposito, and the late Angus Cloud, Abigail follows an unlikely group of strangers (Barrera, Stevens, Newton, Cloud) who are hired by a mysterious benefactor (Esposito)  to pull off the kidnapping of a wealthy man’s daughter and ransom her for a tidy profit. Things quickly devolve into chaos when the kidnappers realize that their tiny hostage is a bloodthirsty vampire intent on turning her captors into her next meal. 

For horror fans, Abigail as a concept is an easy sell: the plot is hinged around a whole slew of classic tropes thrown in a blender, and for the most part, sticking to the script nets a satisfying (if predictable) film. Structurally, the film is nearly identical to Ready or Not (a certain visual effect is also very similar), and while, for the most part, these similarities serve Abigail well, where the adherence to formula really blunders is with its first act character building.

Because while it certainly makes sense that you’d want to give a little vampire all the possible necks to munch on that she could ever want, Abigail as a film doesn’t need all these characters, and the first half of the runtime suffers noticeably for it. Sure, an ensemble cast getting picked off one by one is a genre staple, but the supporting players of Abigail simply aren’t up to snuff.

Generally, if a horror cast is chock full of expendable characters, the soon-to-be-corpses at least have a memorable personality trait, a reliable penchant for jokes, or a particularly nasty persona that we can’t wait to see meet a violent end. But while the Abigail ensemble may have nabbed a few impressive names to fill out its larger cast (particularly in Stevens and Newton), the ragtag bunch of vampire hunters simply can’t deliver on the personality front. 

Of the ill-fated kidnappers, Stevens’ Frank is perhaps the most memorable—a slimy, bespectacled ex-cop, Stevens slathers on a questionable East Coast American accent to deliver a solid, love-to-hate-him secondary villain for Barrera’s Joey to verbally spar with. But while Frank’s late-game revelations eventually do yield a few memorable moments, any charisma the character has is entirely due to Stevens as a performer, and perhaps even in *spite* of the film’s script.

Though undoubtedly the concept is strong, where Abigail’s script most frequently falters is character—because while Frank may be a fun character, he’s an inconsistently written one with plenty of questionable dialogue. The dialogue issue is particularly prevalent among the ensemble (though Newton is incredibly charming in films like Lisa Frankenstein, her offbeat punk-rock character falls flat here), and especially in comedic beats, the direction from Bettinelli-Opin and Gillett.

In addition to Stevens, the other cast member whose raw charisma manages to shine through some less-than-witty material is Angus Cloud, who passed away in July of last year. Abigail was the last film Cloud worked on before his passing, and though his laid-back persona and singular cadence are definitely unexpected in a horror-comedy, his particular brand of line delivery is perfect for the kind of deadpan quips Radio Silence favors.

But even with a few bright abouts, what’s most frustrating about Abigail’s ensemble is that it doesn’t need to exist. Radio Silence follows the Ready or Not formula, hoping to deliver a tight, well-paced “survive the night” movie that emulates their previous structural success. The problem is that while it’s a fine structural model, the characters simply aren’t as strong as the crop screenwriter Guy Busick previously delivered.

That’s not to say Abigail doesn’t have strong characters, though—because for all of the ensemble’s weaknesses, the bond between Abigail and Joey is undeniably the most compelling part of the film. As she proved in the Scream films, Melissa Barrera fits the “tough as nails older sister” role to a “T”, and she brings that same authoritative, no-nonsense, yet compassionate energy here. 

This time, though, as opposed to a fearful Jenna Ortega, the little sister figure in Barrera’s life is a razor-toothed, bloodthirsty vampire: one played with remarkable ferocity, vulnerability, and a healthy dose of camp from young Alisha Weir. Though the film (in attempting to hide the vampire “twist”) doesn’t give her much of a chance to show off comedic chops (a delightful surprise) until the late game, Weir is a captivating presence, able to wring sympathy out of the audience with her frightened tears even when we know they’re all for show.

But what isn’t for show is the unlikely bond Abigail ends up forming with Joey. Although they’re initially positioned as enemies, the film takes a refreshing narrative departure and sees its two female protagonists join forces, turning on a common enemy. Especially with the sweet, sisterly chemistry between Weir and Barrera, seeing Joey and Abigail fight side by side in the final moments of Abigail was an undeniably winning finale that makes it easy to forgive some of the script’s early weaknesses.

Though those in search of genuine scares or clever dialogue should look elsewhere, Abigail delivers as a bloody ballet B-movie thanks to an unexpectedly endearing pair in Melissa Barrera and Alisha Weir. 

Review Courtesy of Lauren Coates

Feature Image Credit to Universal Pictures via Nerdtropolis