Ready or Not (2019)

Why do these screams matter?

Ready or Not is a foray into generational lore and unrestrained privilege that offers up an intriguing blend of campy gore and pointed social commentary. The film opens with a traditional wedding between Grace (Samara Weaving) and Alex Le Domas (Mark O’Brien) that belies Alex’s status as heir to a wealthy gaming dynasty. That evening, Grace is told that it is a family custom for all people marrying into the family to play a game. Grace, whose own history as a foster kid makes her yearn for a family of her own, is eager to participate in the family ritual. But when she pulls the one game card that means the family must kill her or risk breaking its pact with the Devil, a pact that has resulted in the family’s vast economic fortunes, Grace’s only hope is to survive an evening of deadly hide or seek until daybreak when the pact will be broken.

Our first scream set comes after Grace has realized the gravity of her situation. Alex explains to her that he knew her pulling the death card was a possibility but that he was willing to risk it rather than losing Grace.

 

 

A few things are informing these screams that I think are worth thinking about, namely how Grace is rejecting many of the power structures that surround her. Because Grace’s screams here are couched in profanity, this moment reads as a deliberate unraveling of some of the gender constructions we’ve seen in the character up until this point. From the picture-perfect, virginal white wedding dress that gets shredded and bloodied in her escape attempts to her exchanging heels for sneakers to be more mobile, Grace’s physical transformation has been slowly building such that these screams represent a substantial character shift. Grace is no longer the quiet, acquiescing female willing to perform a role to be accepted by this family; rather, she is now embracing her independence and reclaiming her voice.

Having just sliced a hole in her stomach in her attempt to squeeze through the cast-iron fence that surrounds the Le Domas home, Grace flags down a car filled with adolescent males with an expectation that they will want to help her. But their easy dismissal of her pain and very obvious need for help are yet another reminder to Grace, and the audience, that her survival is entirely up to her. This realization then takes the form of “Fucking rich people,” an addendum to her scream. Here, Grace isn’t only expressing indignation at her plight, but she is also aiming at a capitalistic structure that renders some people expendable. Sure, the divide between wealthy and poor has been prominent from the beginning of the film but only in suggestion. Grace’s scream takes that suggestion and names it explicitly for the audience. The result is an understanding that Grace isn’t only fleeing from one family; she’s running from the hierarchical system of wealth and all of the connections and privileges that connotes.

It is telling that Grace’s most physical battle is with her mother-in-law, Becky (Andie MacDowell). Previous scenes established that Becky came from a similarly disenfranchised background as Grace. But all offers of familial love are taken off the table when Becky tells Grace it’s either her or them.

 

 

Here, Becky’s scream takes center stage as she rushes toward Grace with the intent to kill her. For Becky, this kill is more personal than it is for the others. We know Becky sees her former self in Grace and her decision to kill Grace through hand-to-hand combat as opposed to a weapon that offers some distance suggests that what Becky desires is to destroy the former version of herself- the version that existed before she accumulated wealth and power. If Becky has to destroy another woman to do so, then so be it. The moment suggests that no inherent bond exists between women, especially when one woman is financially privileged and the other is not.

With that in mind, our next scream demonstrates Grace’s complete rejection of the domestic ideals with which she has been raised. In this scene, Alex betrays Grace by joining his family in an attempt to sacrifice her to keep the family’s pact with the Devil intact. But his stab wound to her heart misses just as dawn breaks.

 

Akin to the sound of a trapped animal would make, this scream represents Grace’s instinctual desire to fight back. By picking up the knife and brandishing it against those she earlier yearned to have as her family, Grace is essentially rejecting the idea that she is not enough on her own. Her scream is a primal one and with it comes a complete rejection of the traditional domesticity represented by her relationship with Alex. In an era where reports claim President Trump prefers women who work for him dress in a feminine manner and where Vice President Pence fears being alone with a woman who is not his wife, even in a professional capacity, this rejection is pointed. Our final glimpse of Grace is as she sits on the steps, bloodied and battered, and smoking a cigarette while everything burns around her. In the end, she’s the last one standing not because she trusted others to take care of her- within traditional and normative family structures- but because she took care of herself.

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Works Cited

Fortin, Jacey. “Dress Like a Woman? What Does that Mean?.” The New York Times, 3 Feb. 2017, www.nytimes.com/2017/02/03/style/trump-women-dress-code-white-house.html.

Ready or Not. Directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, performances by Samara Weaving, Andie MacDowell, and Henry Czerny, Fox Searchlight Pictures, 2019.

Waldman, Paul. “Opinion: Pence’s unwillingness to be alone with a woman is a symptom of a bigger problem.” The Washington Post, 30 Mar. 2017, www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/plum-line/wp/2017/03/30/pences-unwillingness-to-be-alone-with-a-woman-is-a-symptom-of-a-bigger-problem/.