Originally intended as a modernized adaptation of Universal’s 1936 underseen cult curio, Dracula’s Daughter, Abigail, directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett (Scream V and VI, Ready or Not) and produced by their longtime Radio Silence partner, Chad Villella, bears little, if any resemblance, to the ’36 horror film beyond the two words of the original title. It was — and is — a low-risk, high-reward scenario. Fans of the original film, likely numbering in the dozens if not the hundreds, aren’t expected to object, let alone withhold their all-important ticket-buying decisions, for the lack of similarities between the two films. In fact, they might just welcome the ultra-gory, ultra-bloody Abigail.
Scripted by frequent Radio Silence collaborators Stephen Shields and Guy Busick, Abigail combines a kidnapping plot, an isolated mansion-turned-prison, and the titular character (Alisha Weir), a centuries-old vampire ballerina (or vice versa) who presents herself to the outside world as a vulnerable 12-year-old. Hired by the enigmatic, well-dressed Lambert (Giancarlo Esposito), for a seemingly simple smash-and-grab of an entitled, preteen heiress, kidnappers Frank (Dan Stevens), Joey (Melissa Barrera), Sammy (Kathryn Newton), Peter (Kevin Durand), Dean (Angus Cloud), and Rickles (William Catlett) expect a simple, straightforward 24-hour babysitting job. Lambert assigns them names based on the Rat Pack actors from the original Ocean’s Eleven, orders them to conceal their true identities, and promises each kidnapper a cool $7 million from the random pot for their minimal efforts.
Of course, it’s all too good to be true. To quote the inestimable, if still highly fictional, Admiral Ackbar, “It’s a trap!”Once they arrive at an isolated mansion with tranquilized Abigail in tow, they settle in for a night of over-drinking and over-sharing, the latter mostly to pass the time until Lambert returns. What they don’t know is that Abigail’s not the 12-year-old heiress with a ballet fixation she seems. The mansion also doubles as an impenetrable prison and, worse, Abigail hasn’t been fed in quite a while. This appetite means she will likely kill them one-by-one Agatha Christie-style. (Abigail name-checks Christie’s seminal whodunit And Then There None more than once.) The kidnappers’ combined talents do little when faced with a bloodthirsty vampire hunting in her preferred feeding grounds.
To their credit, Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett certainly deliver on the promise of gore-filled carnage, pushing the R-rating to its extreme. Abigail’s diminutive size doesn’t prove to be an obstacle to the savage, throat-ripping kills that the directors put on screen. The incongruity of a tiny (vampire) dancer becomes the source of most, if not all, of Abigail’s overlapping pleasures. They also fill multiple scenes with loads of blood, often of the artfully exploding, bursting kind.
A horror premise, no matter how objectively promising, is only as good as its execution and that’s exactly where Abigail falters. Maybe Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett had other intentions, like possibly hiding Abigail’s true nature until the film itself, but between the TV/Internet ads, poster art, and the general marketing thrust, moviegoers will walk into their local multiplexes already knowing Abigail’s real identity as a vampire (ballerina), putting them a few steps ahead of the under-prepared characters onscreen for the better part of an hour.
It’s not until the kidnappers begin mysteriously disappearing and Abigail reveals her true nature that the film finally picks up the slack. The long-waited plot turn towards Abigail stalking and hunting her kidnappers feels like, if not ‘too little, too late,’ then almost too little, especially given multiple scenes of the survivors casually meeting to discuss next steps while Abigail presumably lingers offscreen.
That doesn’t make Abigail a total loss, but it’s a partial loss given the premise, cast, and writing-directing team. Stevens leans into his scummy character’s worst self-dealing interests while fellow horror alum Newton ably plays up the inherent comedy as her character psychologically disintegrates under the pressure. Weir commendably dives head- and fang-first into her role as a centuries-old vampire trapped in a 12-year-old’s body while the late Angus Cloud, playing a doped-out screw-up, adds humour and humanity to his doomed character. Already a “Final Girl” twice in the last two Scream entries, Barrera ably acquits herself here as the conflicted, conscience-stricken Joey, delivering an impressively confident, pitch-perfect performance. It’s just a pity these actors don’t appear in a leaner, meaner version of Abigail.