Tina Kakadelis
Sometimes, the horror movies are the ones with parameters. That, built into their premise, is something that acts as a constraint on the lives of its characters. Not something as basic as financial standing, but a more extreme circumstance. Think Cast Away, and how Tom Hanks on an island allowed for a more creative story than if that same character were just stranded in a city. The premise of Raviv Ullman and Greg Yagolnitzer’s SXSW-premiering Drag offers a similar, boxed-in feeling where its characters are only as free as the situation allows them to be.
The audience is introduced to a robbery already in progress. Or, at least, already in transit. Two sisters (Lizzy Caplan and Lucy DeVito), neither of which are given a name in the film, are in a car driving down a windy, secluded road. The more impulsive sister is the one who cooked up this plan because the man whose house they’re robbing owes her money. She tells the more reliable sister to wait in the car; she should be in and out in twenty minutes. Of course, she doesn’t show, so the other sister is forced to go looking for her. The reckless sister has thrown her back out and can’t move, so the other one is forced to drag her through the home before the guy who owns the house (John Stamos) returns.
Drag is a horror comedy of errors. Everything snowballs in ways neither of the sisters could have predicted when their night began. It’s part of what makes Drag such a fun watch because each turn of the screw is unexpected. Little comments come back to bite the sisters in the ass when the homeowner returns. Even before then, too. Nothing is what it seems, which makes for such a riveting ride for the viewer.
The entire film, save for the first scene with the sisters in the car, takes place in this rich artist’s mansion. It makes the playing field uneven when the sisters need to outsmart him to get out as they’re unfamiliar with the layout and the secrets the house holds. Not to mention, one sister is laid out, unable to stand, walk, or do much except groan in pain. It’s a hell of a performance by Caplan in Drag, so physical despite her immobility. The same goes for DeVito, who is stuck carrying around this dead weight, both literally and figuratively. These are not sisters who regularly spend time together; they’re only here because the responsible one owes the reckless one a favor. They are almost constantly bickering, sometimes in hushed whispers, sometimes screaming in the way sisters do. They only agree that they need to get out of the house, but neither is willing to admit the other has a good idea.
Drag is one of those movies where the less you know going in, the better. Even what’s been written here might be too much. Drag is a damn good time, and part of the reason is the element of surprise coupled with its limited set, cast, and premise. Shot over the course of 21 days, Drag is lean and a little meaner than one might expect. This is not your childhood’s John Stamos and what a genuine thrill it is to see him play this character in this film. It feels reminiscent of the rush that came from Demi Moore in The Substance for the first time. It’s always fun to see stars from your childhood decide to go nuts and play a role they never would have even been considered for in the ’90s.
Fairly early on in the film, Drag lets the audience know what they’re about to get into when the camera lingers on a slightly raised nail in the floorboard. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what’s going to happen given the premise, but when the film finally makes good on its promise, the whole audience squirms. There is not enough body horror to deter the truly squeamish, but enough for the aficionados. Drag is the type of movie that’s intoxicating to experience for the first time and every time after.
