A weekend escape for a couple, accompanied by their respective parents, takes an eerie twist in "The Parenting," a delightfully chilling horror-adventure helmed by Craig Johnson (of "Wilson" and "Alex Strangelove") from a screenplay penned by Kent Sublette ("Saturday Night Live"). Premiering on Max on March 13, the film may lack genuine heart-stopping frights but boasts an enchanting ensemble whose comic prowess elevates it slightly above the mundane fare typically found on streaming platforms.
Rohan (played by Nik Dodani of "Atypical" and "Twisters") and Josh (portrayed by Brandon Flynn of "13 Reasons Why" and "Manhunt"), a sweet-natured duo, are apprehensive about meeting each other's families. As they drive up to a stunning countryside mansion, rented at the bargain price of $350 per night, they exchange tips and secrets on how to make a favorable impression. Rohan, particularly anxious, tries to prepare his boyfriend for his stern and critical parents. However, Josh, a former REI employee and aspiring musician, remains unperturbed, insisting that parents adore him for his relaxed demeanor.
This assumption fails to apply to Rohan's adoptive parents, Frank (Brian Cox) and Sharon (Edie Falco), who are unimpressed by Josh's humor and exhibit a stark contrast to Josh's easygoing parents, Liddy (Lisa Kudrow) and Cliff (Dean Norris). When the six adults finally converge, an uncomfortable tension permeates the air, exacerbated by the house's haunting presence, which manifests in eerie creaks and clanks that disrupt their sleep at night.
Decades prior to Rohan and Josh renting the property from Brenda (Parker Posey), a woman with an eerie vacant stare and chartreuse eyeshadow, an ordinary family once resided there. "The Parenting" opens with a haunting flashback to 1983, set on a tranquil suburban night where a mother (Kate Avallone) watches the final episode of "M*A*S*H," a daughter (Chloe Sciore) seethes in her room, and a son (Keith R. Beck) tries to steer clear of both. Johnson presents these early chilling moments with a humorous, matter-of-fact tone. One moment, the mother is busy preparing dinner; the next, a demonic creature latches onto her ankle, dragging her into the basement. It swiftly turns its attention to the children, and in the blink of an eye, the entire family vanishes into oblivion.
According to Brenda, a woman brimming with an eerie vitality and a penchant for losing her train of thought mid-sentence, the house stood abandoned following a devastating fire. She imparts this unsolicited tidbit to Rohan and Josh, whose unease grows with her very presence. The duo breathes a sigh of relief when Brenda finally hands over a generously filled welcome basket — overflowing with delights such as vintage wine, meat sticks, and an unsettling, complimentary doll — and makes her exit.
Johnson opts to take us on a leisurely stroll through the family's dynamics before diving into any occult escapades. The early scenes portraying the interactions between Josh, Rohan, and their respective parents constitute the film's funniest segments by a wide margin. The humor in these moments borders on dad-joke territory, creeping up on you unexpectedly. Moreover, it's a delight to witness Cox, Falco, Kudrow, and Norris bouncing off each other's energy so effortlessly. They exquisitely capture the stiff awkwardness inherent in two families, likely harboring mutual disdain, coming together for the first time. Dodani and Flynn shine as the anxious offspring, yearning for parental approval even as they strive to confidently carve out futures independent of their parents.
The paranormal shenanigans commence, in a comically recurring gag, via the Wi-Fi, which transpires to be the vessel of a Latin curse. The low-budget Count Orlok casts a spell over Frank one evening after he imprudently reads the password aloud (a decision that baffles even this critic). Possessed, Frank triggers a cascade of alarming occurrences.
While Rohan's father succumbs to the demon's will, Josh grapples with navigating an unfamiliar facet of his partner. He sends a flurry of desperate texts to their mutual friend Sara (Vivian Bang), prompting her to rush to the family's upstate abode. "The Parenting" embodies a horror genre that provokes more chuckles than screams. The mythology behind the hauntings is thin and unsatisfactory under analytical scrutiny. The jump scares and other conventional genre tropes are scarce, and Johnson harbors little interest in gore. Any bloodshed almost invariably serves as a punchline. Whether you embrace this approach hinges on your preference for quick laughter over lingering terror.
