VW

The scouts

VW plays it brutally straight—grief-stricken brothers, home invasion, bodies in the walls—and never once asks why we should care about any of it; it's a high-concept thriller that's content to be exactly what it says on the tin, which is precisely why I'm passing.

Price constructs this with the architectural precision of a Carpenter-era siege film, but the emotional architecture—the funeral destination, the Airbnb framing—never quite crystallizes into thematic statement; it's competent genre work that doesn't interrogate its own machinery.

The film's entire gravitational pull hinges on a single choice: treating the brothers' grief not as motivation but as a dead weight they're already carrying when violence arrives, which means every gunshot and scream lands differently than it would in a standard home-invasion setup.