Coming Home in the Dark (2021) | Film Review

As we begin Coming Home in the Dark, a pair of school teachers – Hoaggie and Jill (Erik Thomson and Miriama McDowell) – set off on an exquisite vacation touring the New Zealand countryside with their two teenage sons. A quiet picnic in a picturesque valley is eviscerated when a pair of miscreants – Mandrake and Tubs (Daniel Gillies and Matthias Luafutu) – happen upon the family.  What seems like a chance encounter descends into a road trip of madness as Mandrake and Tubs take the family hostage and set off for a destination unknown.

James Ashcroft writes (with Eli Kent) and directs this somber tale which ultimately reflects on the lingering effects of childhood trauma. As the script begins to unfurl and Mandrake casually refers to a troubled past at a school for youths, Hoaggie begins to surmise that perhaps there is more at play here than simply a random encounter. Ashcroft and Kent pepper the characters with dialogue alluding to several possible scenarios as we propel to the final act, where we finally learn exactly where this all was headed.

Coming Home in the Dark is a cinematic love-child to The Hitcher and Strangers, heightened terror situated around the prospect of what MIGHT these enigmatic outsiders do to us, and what is their ultimate goal. The entirety of the film rests on how terrified we are of our lead pair of psychopaths. Thankfully, Ashcroft’s antagonists reflect these intentions well.

Matthias Luafutu is delightfully macabre as the mute henchman exacting orders on Mandrake’s command. He remains pathological and yet somehow empathetic despite his various acts. Luafutu imbues Tubs with an almost childlike quality, which continually endears him to the audience even as he barely speaks a word.

Daniel Gillies portrays Mandrake very matter-of-factly, calmly explaining the predicament Hoaggie and Jill find themselves in with the casualness of a shift trainer at Target. Carefully laying out what is expected from them, and clearing the path for clarity with explosive violence whenever it suits his motives, Mandrake is unshakeable.

Gillies portrays Mandrake as a focused sociopath, always with his eye on the mission, and never a hesitation on the extremes necessary to exact it, no matter how distasteful they may be. My only mild gripe with Gillies’ performance is the thickness of his accent combined with his very low, almost mumbled delivery, can often times obscure Mandrake’s dialogue substantially, and therefore hinder the impact. That said, Gillies still crafts a strong foe for Hoaggie and friends.

Thomson and McDowell effectively showcase their natural fear, though there is little more to their characters than that. Layers do unravel as the story explains itself, but Hoaggie and Jill remain in a perpetual state of fear for much of the duration of the film, affording the actors rare opportunities to shine.

James Ashcroft’s direction is as bleak as this entire scenario, fitting for the subject matter. The first two thirds are increasingly intense as our minds get wrapped up in the taut games Mandrake plays with his prey, edging us closer to his eventual endgame. It is only once that final present is unwrapped, that the film seems to topple on its objectives.

One specific character switch doesn’t feel so much earned as scripted, and that turn has a direct effect on the conclusion of the film due to its importance. How you ultimately feel about Coming Home in the Dark as a complete work, I suspect, will largely revolve around your take on the film’s final act. While it did not take away from Ashcroft’s strong direction or Gillies and Luafutu’s performances, for me, it did seem as though someone suddenly switched on the lights.

Follow our further discussion on Coming Home in the Dark via this episode of The Hollywood Outsider podcast: