Weapons is not a subtle film. It is not difficult to draw a line from its premise -that one night at 2.17 in the morning, 17 children from the same elementary school class woke up, got out of bed, walked out the front door of their homes, and vanished into the darkness like a squadron of spitfires- to a specific recurring incident in American schools, and how that incident rips apart both families and communities as people look for answers.  However, it also touches on a universal truth in contemporary society: the suburbs are scary.

No matter what version of suburbs we’re talking about, from the the many rows of cookie-cutter homes to the quaint, smaller towns and cities that surround metropolises, there’s an inherent dread that lies inside these communities, especially those facing more challenging economic times.  Most people present themselves as normal and well adjusted, but behind closed doors, we don’t know what might be going on, what traumas might be being inflicted and borne, or what danger they might pose to anyone outside.  

Writer and director Zach Cregger understands this: that a large house on a quiet street is the American dream, but with a few newspapers lying on an unswept porch and windows you cannot see into, it can also become an American nightmare.