Spoiler warning: This article contains spoilers for “Abigail.”

In “Talk Horror to Me,” columnist Emma Kexin Wang ’24 reviews horror, psycho thrillers and all things scary released in the past year.

With its pre-teen monstrous girl performing intentionally comic physical feats when chasing down their victims, “Abigail” (2024) follows the success of its similarly-named predecessor, “Megan” (2023). 

The commonalities end there. Whereas “Megan” is a surprisingly well-executed film about the current anxieties of AI in replacing human labor (in this case, parental labor), “Abigail,” though ultimately an entertaining and inventively gorey watch, makes a feeble gesture towards female solidarity under patriarchal neglect and violence.

At its start, “Abigail” appears to be a typical heist movie. Six underground, independent contractors are recruited for a 24-hour operation: kidnapping Abigail (Alisha Weir) and demanding her father for a $50 million ransom, each. The plot twist? Abigail was the bait, and they are her prey, each having wronged her father in some past incident. 

The main cast, though basically drawn out of a horror character trope list with a sequential order of when each one will be murdered, are still endearing in their own way. 

Spoiled and stupid Sammy (Kathryn Newton) unknowingly brandishes a bag of onions instead of garlic when attempting to fend off this pre-teen vampire. All-brawn-and-no-brain Peter (Kevin Durand) is willing to betray the whole group but comforts Sammy when she’s in need. The faux-murderer turned murdered Dean (the late Angus Cloud) is given every gold one-liner. The perfectly buff, logical and calm Rickles (William Catlett) is briefly the protagonist’s love interest. Annoying and misogynistic Frank (Dan Stevens) goes through perhaps the most satisfying but disgusting death. 

All this leaves us with protagonist Joey, played by long time horror genre connoisseur Melissa Barrera. Troubled but extremely perceptive, Joey occupies a Sherlock Holmesian role, where her almost magical abilities to read people acts as the introduction for the other generic character types. 

But Joey’s perception doesn’t touch Abigail, or at least in the beginning. Faced with a seemingly helpless little girl she had helped to kidnap, Joey is prompted (intentionally) by Abigail to remember her own son, and, in an ironically sweet gesture, pinky promises her that she will “never let anyone hurt her.”

With its rather predictable plot twist, “Abigail” cleverly usurps the heist movie trope into the enclosed mansion cat-and-mouse chase. The tension in the first act thus stems from the disjunction between the audience’s and characters’ knowledge — we’re waiting for them to know what we already know, that they were actually the ones who were kidnapped. 

Much of the fun of “Abigail” follows this self-consciousness of the slasher genre to not take itself too seriously. The occasional successful jump scares are nearly always immediately visually contrasted with Abigail busting out a ballet move as she gracefully sautés down the banister. 

However, as more horror films that contain social critique begin to take the stage, “Abigail” makes a perfunctory gesture towards female solidarity. After Abigail first reveals her identity to her kidnappers, she tells them that her father doesn’t care about her enough to give them the ransom, even if they successfully capture her. As she twirls around killing her father’s enemies in her tutu, Abigail is the ultimate puppet under a powerful man’s political and economic empire. 

In the end, Joey does fulfill her pinky promise. She sees through Abigail’s failed attempts of gaining love and attention from her father, and, in a combined attempt to save herself and Abigail, becomes the voice through which the film articulates the true, hidden villain. 

Despite the subversion of the helpless little girl into a literal monstress figure, making Abigail’s name and face the branding of such horror, the film ultimately recognizes that Abigail still doesn’t hold enough power under patriarchal control. 

Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.