No One Will Save You (2023)

“I’m sorry.”

In film and in everyday life, I believe there’s a universally equal power found in brevity. To tell a story concisely is to communicate it clearly, to really value the time of the listener, and to confidently show rather than meander about with a loose-lipped tell. Less can be so much more. As is the case with No One Will Save You, which says more through action and emotion than anything I’ve seen since A Quiet Place, and it embraces the alienating feeling of what it’s like to be an already ostracized outsider seeking refuge amidst an otherworldly invasion. This is a film about finding purpose and place, and how surrendering over to a higher power – of any kind – can meet our most basic needs, even if it eliminates self-actualization in the process. Even Maslow’s Hierarchy has a ceiling for characters dealing with this much trauma and stress.

There’s a house, a car, power lines, vast woods surrounding the etched out property. The scene is set with precision. This is a home; it’s cared for and looked after and nurtured. A young woman we come to know as Brynn (Kaitlyn Dever, absolutely commanding the screen) heads the household by her lonesome. She looks like a woman out of time, dispossessed from her surroundings, and we quickly learn that this young woman lives in nearly complete exile. Traveling to town causes great anxiety, and Brynn would much rather play make believe in the comfort of her home, dreaming up fantasies while gazing at the little doll world of her own creation. But then there’s an unknown noise in the night, and it quickly becomes a literal beacon for change to come.

Writer/Director Brian Duffield does a remarkable job here, using action as a form of telepathic communication, saving us from the kinds of exposition that I anticipated might be the nearly wordless film’s undoing. It’s a brave endeavor, and it helps to have someone as emotive and captivating as Dever navigating the terrain through her eyes and physicality; she might just be my favorite actress of her generation. Still though, some scenes midway feel like they could have been cut, and some are downright confusing, but even when the film goes for broke it manages to be rich in character and tone. Duffield’s talent as a filmmaker is reminiscent of Andrew Patterson’s shockingly confident feature The Vast of Night. They’re both slight in scope but massive in skill, and would make for a great small town double-billing.

I’ve never seen The Twilight Zone episode titled “The Invaders,” yet No One Will Save You seems to undoubtedly be inspired by the minimalist story approach of such early and groundbreaking science fiction, daring to take things even further and stretch them into a feature length film. The finale might confuse some, and there are parts in the middle that I question, but it should still be apparent that this film is a trying and hostile reconciliation of sorts, and that the dreamy final shot – whether it’s real or simply exists in the protagonist’s mind – is every bit as concrete and tangible to Brynn as was the hatred she once faced. Ultimately, forgiveness leads to peace and manifests the life Brynn dreamt for herself, and her brimming smile before the credits roll simply reiterates how redemption is possible and worth fighting for. How we must be willing to save ourselves in a world that’s out to get us. And how home is where the heart is, however it might beat.

“I’m sorry, Maude.”

Rating: 4 out of 5

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