Photo Illustration: Vulture; Photos: Universal Pictures, Shudder

Spoilers for the plot and ending of Speak no evilboth the 2022 film and the 2024 remake.

Happy endings may leave audiences smiling, but it’s the bummer endings that leave a lasting impression. A truly bleak ending can be infuriating and depressing, but at its best, it also recontextualizes everything that came before, heightening the dramatic irony and dread.

Even in the pantheon of bleak endings — Under the Planet of the Apes, Oldie, The Mist — 2022’s Speak no evil stands out, with a sickening descent into hell that turns a darkly funny social satire into a test of endurance. The shocking brutality of the Danish film’s final act was never likely to sit well with mainstream American sensibilities, so it’s no surprise that Blumhouse’s 2024 remake takes a very different tack. But in an attempt to avoid the hopelessness of the original’s ending, Speak no evil loses something important: the core of the matter.

Those who have seen the remake – or even just endured the ubiquitous trailer – will recognize the plot of the 2022 Danish film. Christian Tafdrup’s Speak no evil begins with a Danish family, Bjørn (Morten Burian), Louise (Sidsel Siem Koch) and daughter Agnes (Liva Forsberg), who befriend a Dutch family, Patrick (Fedja van Huêt), Karin (Karina Smulders) and son Abel (Marius Damslev) on holiday in Tuscany. Some time later, Patrick and Karin invite their new friends to visit them at their remote country house, and with only minor reservations, Bjørn, Louise and Agnes decide to take a weekend trip to the Netherlands.

While Patrick and Karin seem warm and friendly, it soon becomes clear that something is not quite right. Abel is mute, which Patrick attributes to a birth defect, but the relationship between father and son seems strained to say the least. The Dutch couple subject the Danes to a series of escalating humiliations: encouraging vegetarian Louise to eat meat, making them foot a hefty restaurant bill, criticizing Agnes in front of her mother. Bjørn is generally too polite to say anything, attributing any discomfort to cultural differences, despite Louise’s growing anxiety.

By the time Bjørn discovers what is really going on, it is too late: Patrick and Karin are serial killers who murder parents and kidnap their children. They have already taken care of Abel, and now they are coming for Agnes. Bjørn tries to get his family to safety without revealing the real danger to them, but they are ambushed by the Dutch couple. Karin cuts out Agnes’ tongue with a pair of scissors – the real reason Abel could not speak – and she is separated from her parents. Patrick then drives Bjørn and Louise to a quarry, where he and Karin force them to get naked and then stone them to death. The film ends with the Dutch family, with their new “daughter” Agnes in tow, meeting their next victims.

Cheerful, Speak no evil isn’t. But the harrowing final act isn’t just nihilism. When Bjørn asks Patrick why he’s doing this, Patrick says, “Because you let me.” Tafdrup’s film is largely about the way we accept abuse out of a sense of obligation, or sometimes just to keep the boat from rocking. Throughout the film, Patrick tests his victims — are they more concerned with their personal safety, or are they concerned with not appearing rude? Bjørn’s inaction, born of his desire to be a good and respectful guest, allows his host to do the unthinkable.

The Blum House Speak no evil takes a different approach. The setup is the same: here, American expats Ben (Scoot McNairy), Louise (Mackenzie Davis), and Agnes (Alix West Lefler) meet British family Paddy (James McAvoy), Ciara (Aisling Franciosi), and Ant (Dan Hough) on a vacation in Tuscany. Many of these early scenes feel like a shot-for-shot remake, down to the word-for-word dialogue, and while there are a few minor changes once we arrive at Paddy and Ciara’s remote farmhouse, the plot twists are virtually identical. Usually, a close re-cut of a recent foreign film is designed to appeal to American viewers who don’t want to read subtitles; in this case, the original Speak no evil is almost entirely in English, making the American doppelganger feel extra redundant.

But the third act sees the new version take an even bolder departure from the original. In writer-director James Watkins’ film, it’s Agnes who uncovers Paddy and Ciara’s plot after a more proactive Ant shows her incriminating photos of previous victims and pretends to have his tongue cut out (why didn’t Abel think of that?). She alerts her parents, who handle the situation far more calmly than any of us would. It seems like the family might actually get away — until they’re forced to return to rescue a drowning Ant.

Rest assured, there is no tongue-lashing or stoning on screen in this one Speak no evil. On the farm, the American family fights back with whatever they can get their hands on — box cutters, carving forks, sulfuric acid. (It’s a bit like Home Alone(although perhaps less violent.) After luring Ciara to a high window, Louise batters her with a brick and knocks her off the roof to her death. And while Paddy briefly captures Agnes, she injects him with ketamine, incapacitating him. Ant then bashes his “father’s” head in with a brick, and the new family of four all escape (relatively) unscathed. It’s probably too gory to be called a happy ending, but compared to the way the 2022 Speak no evil concludes that this version is downright enjoyable.

But what’s it all for, without the slap in the face of the original ending? On the surface, this is still a film about how social niceties can make us behave against our best interests or, in extreme cases, force us to suppress our all-important survival instincts. “We’re all too fucking polite,” says Paddy. He continually pushes his guests to be more honest, urging them to express how they really feel, even if it’s offensive. Louise finally gets the message. When Agnes shows her the photos of Paddy and Ciara’s previous victims, Louise tells her, “It’s not normal and we don’t have to pretend it’s normal.”

That’s all well and good, but these deliberate articulations of the film’s message don’t quite match what we see. When Ben asks Paddy why he’s doing this and Paddy says, “Because you make us do it,” we know that Louise is hiding a box cutter — and moments later, she’s slashing his face. No one makes Paddy do anything; the family fights back hard!

In the original Speak no evilThe passivity is the point: one of the darkest moments is Bjørn softly crying in the car on the way to the quarry, seemingly resigned to his fate. In the remake, it’s clear that the American family isn’t going down without a fight, and there’s never any real suspense about whether they’ll all make it out alive. The soft ending—Paddy even explains that he’s going to sedate Agnes before removing her tongue—undermines the social satire that made its predecessor so effective. Speak no evil is meant as a sick joke, and doesn’t work without the punchline.

Plus, the new film has too much on its plate to make its hits land. While the bleak original was content to explain that Patrick and Karin were just psychopaths, the American version of course has to find a deeper reason for their crimes. Paddy does this because they let him, of course, but also because he’s going to steal all their money and make a living that way. He also had a rough childhood. (You can’t have contemporary horror without trauma!) And he’s a symbol of toxic masculinity, which is why McAvoy based his performance on Andrew Tate.

These revelations are clearly an attempt to add complexity to Patrick’s character, but they only further muddy the waters — largely because they don’t really go anywhere. There may be something to the idea of ​​a men’s rights activist challenging a meek father to throw off the shackles of polite society and protect his family, but the concept never gets beyond a passing thought. Blumhouse’s Speak no evil is burdened by restraint; it dangles challenging themes and darkness before the audience, but refuses to traumatize them as the original did. The cowardly “happy” ending underscores the remake’s real failing — a refusal to follow through.