Netflix And Chill: The Prodigy (2019)

There's probably a good movie to be made about The Prodigy, the British dance band that suffered the sad loss of charismatic member Keith Flint last year. There's so much energy and attitude there, and quite the journey through rave culture and beyond. Having said that, there's also probably a good movie to be made about a child prodigy. A "bad seed" child with the smarts and innovation to start killing many people they encounter without relying on the stupidity of others to avoid being caught. Or just a child mentally developing so rapidly that it causes them to lash out, mood swings and strong arguments being put on display that are far removed from the standard behaviour of a child at that age.

The Prodigy isn't any of those. It's a depressingly dull slog through familiar material, trudging from one predictable moment to the next, lacking tension, scares, and energy. If you ever decide to give yourself a triple-bill of home viewings and you pick The Prodigy as one of your options then place it in the middle, to be carried by the other two a la Weekend At Bernies.

Here's the plot, because I suppose I must. Taylor Schilling and Peter Mooney are Sarah and John Blume, and they have a son, Miles (Jackson Robert Scott). Miles is a very smart cookie. Which doesn't matter much, not until he starts to speak a different language in his sleep and show signs of being what is known in proper medical terminology as . . . an evil little shit. That's all I'll say. There IS more to it, but a) I don't want to spoil anything for those who like to know as little as possible, and b) I can't be bothered expending more energy on something so lazy and horrible.

Director Nicholas McCarthy has a decent filmography, from those I have seen. The Pact is a supernaturally-tinged thriller that worked well with genre tricks, while At The Devil's Door was an improvement, in terms of confidence and atmosphere. So it's a shame to see him take this big step back. I'm not going to give him all the blame though, because Jeff Buhler is the person who wrote the screenplay, and Jeff Buhler seems to be doing his best to upset horror fans recently, considering his work on this, Pet Sematary, the Jacob's Ladder remake, and The Grudge reboot/reworking/sequel. I really enjoyed his first screenplay over a decade ago, Midnight Meat Train, but perhaps that was more down to the vision of the director than anything that Buhler put on the page.

Cast-wise, there's nobody helping to make this more bearable. Schilling and Mooney are just present, Scott makes mean faces, usually changing suddenly after making sweet faces, and Colm Feore is the only one managing to stand out from the supporting cast that includes Paul Fauteux, Brittany Allen, and Paula Boudreau.

There's a minimum degree of competency in all departments, which saves it from being among the worst of the worst, but this is an absolutely dire mainstream horror movie. Viewers aren't drawn in at the beginning, the middle section meanders from one incident to the next without much sense, and the ending is as unengaging as it is tiresomely nonsensical, and also painfully predictable.

3/10

Don't buy the movie here.
Americans can not buy it here.