If you’re a horror aficionado, Samara Weaving’s name likely rings a bell. Known for her standout roles in Ready or Not and Scream 6, she’s a genre favorite. In Azrael, Weaving takes a bold turn with a dialogue-free role, proving her prowess in captivating an audience without a single word. Set in a post-Rapture world where speech is forbidden, Weaving embodies Azrael, a woman marked for sacrifice who defies her grim fate. Through masterful body language and expression, Weaving unveils both Azrael’s fierce determination and deep vulnerability. Alongside strong performances from Vic Carmen Sonne, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett, and Katariina Unt, Azrael may shift from Weaving’s usual fare, but it’s a striking addition to her filmography.
Azrael grabs you by the throat from the first frame and doesn’t let go. At a brisk 85 minutes, the film plunges you into a whirlwind of brutal action and creeping dread. It wastes no time with exposition, instead throwing viewers into a relentless chase through dense, shadow-drenched forests where danger lurks behind every tree. The choreography is visceral, each fight feeling more savage than the last, as Azrael’s struggle for survival escalates into something primal. Every blow lands with the weight of desperation, pulling the audience deeper into the chaos.
The forest setting amplifies the tension, with the towering trees and hidden corners acting as both sanctuary and threat. The cinematography excels in making the wilderness feel claustrophobic, the dark woods swallowing up what little light remains, turning the surroundings into a suffocating trap. Gorehounds will find plenty to feast on as the film leans into body horror, offering grotesque, bone-crunching moments that linger just long enough to turn your stomach. The creatures—unnervingly human yet otherworldly—are used sparingly at first, creeping in like shadows before fully taking over the screen in terrifying fashion.
While the narrative itself is thin, the sheer intensity and bleak atmosphere carry the film. It’s a bone-chilling ride through a world that feels like it’s decaying around the characters, where survival isn’t just a goal—it’s a bloody, desperate fight against overwhelming odds.
Azrael is a film that hinges on silence—leaning fully into the dialogue-free approach, much like A Quiet Place but with its own distinct twist. Instead of finding clever ways to work in conversation, Azrael strips speech away entirely, relying on the weight of physical performance and the eerie stillness of its post-apocalyptic world. It’s a bold choice, one that pays off in moments where the tension could snap like a twig in the quiet of the forest. The absence of dialogue forces the visuals to do the heavy lifting, and for the most part, they rise to the challenge.
Samara Weaving shines as the film’s anchor, pulling us through a world where words have lost their place. Her physicality and expressive power are undeniable, carrying the film in a way that makes every glance, every motion, and every moment of breathless stillness feel charged with meaning. It’s a stripped-down performance, but that only serves to make her presence all the more striking, like a figure etched in shadow and light.
Yet for all the film’s stylistic choices, its plot stumbles into familiar territory. The post-apocalyptic landscape, while atmospheric, feels like a well-trodden path, populated by recycled tropes and predictable beats. It’s hard to get fully immersed when the narrative lacks depth, as though we’re watching the same story play out in different skin. The creatures lurking in the shadows are eerie, and the action is brutal, but the lack of context leaves the stakes feeling hollow. What is Azrael really fighting for? Without a deeper understanding of her world, it’s hard to invest in her struggle.
Where Azrael excels is in its moments of raw survival—the chase scenes, the visceral encounters, the stark contrast between light and darkness. The cinematography leans into the film’s isolated, bleak tone, making the forest itself feel like a character, looming and oppressive. The horror is more about what you feel creeping up behind you than what’s directly in front of you. There are some truly haunting visuals that stick with you, but the scares are often more about atmosphere than actual terror.
At its core, Azrael is a dark symphony of mood and motion, with Samara Weaving delivering a performance that echoes with silent intensity. The film hurtles forward like a relentless shadow, ensnaring you in its cold, eerie atmosphere and relentless tension. While the story may drift through disjointed fragments, the haunting visuals and unyielding pace carve out an experience that’s both chilling and unforgettable.
Director: E.L. Katz
Cast: Samara Weaving, Vic Carmen Sonne, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett
Writer: Simon Barrett
Producers: Dave Caplan, Simon Barrett, Dan Kagan
Music: Tóti Guðnason
Cinematography: Mart Taniel
Editor: Ben Baudhuin
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