No One Will Save You (2023)

Your standard home invasion is frightening enough but what if you learned the “invasion” in question went far beyond your own home to include say, the entire planet? That’s basically the plight of poor Brynn (Kaitlyn Dever) who, when she’s not wrestling with progressively intimidating alien life forms, builds a scale model of the town that scorns her while mourning the loss of a childhood friend she accidentally killed.

This PG-rated sci-fi horror hybrid could easily crash and burn but thankfully it’s written and directed by our ever reliable buddy Brian Duffield who previously directed the outstanding SPONTANEOUS (2020) and penned such personal faves as LOVE AND MONSTERS (2020) and the highly underrated UNDERWATER (2020, I shall die on this submerged hill). Two standing ovation worthy choices were made by Duffield right from the starting gate. First of all, the aliens are blatant, upfront and in your face rather than stingily kept in the dark until the final curtain and secondly there is no dialogue (except perhaps a line at the beginning). As someone who easily tires of chin music, it’s a refreshing relief and I gotta say, it really works within the film to create an atmosphere of pure urgency. There’s not much else to do in Brynn’s unfortunate situation than shut up and run!

The title NO ONE CAN SAVE YOU works just as much as low key friendly advise as it does a gloomy observation. Brynn’s clearly battling her tragic past as much as the startlingly varied varmints that pursue her. Dever’s expressive mug and girl-next-door demeanor does much to ground the film’s more fantastic elements and make them as creepily believable as an extravagant nightmare. Few action stars endeavor as much as fast on her feet Brynn, and the I’m betting the sight of the imposing alien creatures alone would break the spirit of most. Although Brynn is of few words, while witnessing her ordeal I could not follow suit; I often muttered things like “Oh shit”, “no way” and of course a direct quote from John Carpenter’s THE THING (’82). “You gotta be fucking kidding.” My poor brain was trained to expect shy twiggy ectomorphs who sneak peaks from behind doors like in COMMUNION (’89) or those inquisitive surgery-happy abductors who are happy to ghost you post-examination like in the infamous traumafier FIRE IN THE SKY (’93). I wasn’t ready for giant spider-beings clawing over houses, parasitic throat-dwelling jellyfish and what can only be described as TIK-TOK-baiting intergalactic Vogue-ing.

As eye-popping and over the top as NOBODY IS GOING TO SAVE you is willing to go, it impressively remains a lean, clean, straight forward machine, an apocalyptic character study that expertly juggles both the personal and the infinite. Better still, unlike my own too numerous alien encounters, the events depicted here are memorable enough that I won’t have to resort to expensive hypnotherapy to tearfully recall them! What better praise is there than that? Bonus points are rewarded for the film’s ultimate conclusion that asserts that defiant denial in the face of horrific reality is the key to happiness. I couldn’t agree more.