THE FRONT ROOM Review: An Explosive Kathryn Hunter Nearly Saves Frustrating Hagsploitation, But Not Quite

A very pregnant woman battles an overbearing stepmother-in-law in The Front Room, the directorial debut of Sam and Max Eggers.

Belinda (Brandy Norwood) is with child and about ready to pop when her husband’s father passes away. At the funeral, her husband Norman (Andrew Burnap) is informed that his dad’s dying wish was for his son to take care of the elderly and ailing Solange (Kathryn Hunter), the late father’s wife and Norman’s estranged stepmother. Norman and Solange had a strained relationship, so he is dubious, but Belinda, ever the dutiful wife, convinces her husband that it’s the right thing to do and Solange moves in, setting in motion a series of unfortunate events and revelations that threaten not only the family’s sanity, but also their lives.

At this point, twin brothers Sam and Max Eggers are probably best known for their association with their half-brother Robert, the director of The Lighthouse – on which both worked, Max as a writer and Sam in other capacities. They’d made a few other films in various crew roles, but The Front Room marks their first as feature writer/directors. There’s definitely an authorial voice on display here, a penchant for gallows humor and occasional glibness in the face of danger that separates their work from their brothers, but The Front Room feels unfinished, leaving many questions unanswered and avenues unexplored.

Belinda’s journey from doting wife to vigilant mama bear in the face of an antagonistic houseguest with no boundaries and very clear ideas about the way life should be lived is a compelling one on paper, however, the execution leaves a bit to be desired. Solange’s constant attempts to usurp the family’s home and autonomy fluctuate back and forth between the very relatable and the downright sinister, drawing reactions from Belinda and her husband that often don’t align with the magnitude of the transgression.

The Eggers here appear to be exploring the nature and effects of generational trauma – Solange and Norman’s strained relationship from his childhood bleeds into his adult life and eventually down to his child – as well as the deep-seated racial tensions that stretch over the last several hundred years in the south. The problem here is that neither of these ideas – nor really any of the many ideas introduced – are really explored in any depth, instead The Front Room opts for over-the-top vignettes of emotional and physical violence as well as occasional unexplained mysticism and inscrutable hallucinatory asides.

At the center of this chaotic narrative is a marvelous Kathryn Hunter, whose sickly-sweet southern charm masks her nefarious – though frustratingly unclear – motives. Hunter’s performance as the physically hobbled but mentally savage Solange is an absolute rager, putting Solange near the top of the heap when it comes to inspired hagsploitation villains. She embodies the archetype of the unwanted guest; outwardly helpful – even and especially when her input or assistance is not needed – but also determined to reshape the environment into which she’s been invited to match her own worldview.

There is nothing subtle about Solange, her presence in the family’s home is oppressive from the jump, as her first act upon moving in is to take over the nursery that Belinda and Norman have lovingly prepared, claiming it as her own. It won’t be the first thing she claims, as her insidious attempts to take over become more and more blatant, so do her tactics to keep her caregivers in line get more and more vile and aggressive. It’s a delight to see Hunter off the leash, allowed and even encouraged to go big, big, bigger with every passing attack on the sanity and sanctity of this loving home. Both the character and the actor attack the role with a religious fervor that is admirable, I just wish it was in service of a plot that had more focus.

The Front Room suffers from having too many ideas, and no real understanding of how to weave them all together. There’s an element of old school racial tension – much is made of a certificate denoting Solange’s membership in the Daughters of the Confederacy, but it really comes to nothing – an element of religious fervor – many of Solange’s attacks are in the name of religion, and she frequent lapses into speaking in tongues, but any exploration of this is surface level at best – there are moments that seem to explore maternal delirium, the film appears to have a desire to have the living past confront modern society’s rejection of older social norms, the list goes on and on. In the end, however, we are all just as confused by Solange’s games as Belinda is, and we are left without answers, only actions and it is maddening.

As pure exploitation, The Front Room falls short in that there are moments where it tries to take itself seriously, which hinders the kind of narrative abandon that would make the film into the kind of thrill ride it sometimes wants to be. As a more serious thriller about a family battling an elderly usurper, it fails to connect any of the myriad conflicts is presents, letting each of them hang in the air, waiting for a resolution or explanation that never materializes. Thankfully Kathryn Hunter’s performance provides plenty of thrills to make the film mostly worth the energy, but mostly isn’t good enough when so many interesting avenues are presented, and none of them explored to any level of satisfaction. An enervating experience, The Front Room opens many an intriguing door, but refuses to walk through any of them, leaving the audience unclear as to what the point of the whole thing really was.