The Wrath of Becky - Spectrum Culture

Between the recent releases of Sisu and Blood & Gold, cinematic Nazi killing is booming, and three years after mulching a skinhead with a lawnmower, adolescent murder machine Becky is back to join the fun. With new directors behind the camera, a more decidedly comedic tone and that matter of a fascist insurrection attempt in the time between films, The Wrath of Becky hopes to recapture the original’s madcap bloodlust. Yet a bigger body count, bigger arsenal and wackier tone doesn’t equal a better follow-up.

Jonathan Milott and Cary Murnion‘s 2020 Becky played its absurd hand with a straight face, never dulling the home invader threat that leads to a confrontation between Lulu Wilson’s penchant for Home Alone slaughter and Kevin James’s against-type turn as a neo-Nazi convict. Grief over a deceased mom and angst over a new stepparent provided some semblance of dramatic grounding. Conversely, in its first major misstep, The Wrath of Becky, directed by Suzanne Coote and Matt Angel, overly guffaws at such humanizing. Introduced to a now-16 Becky ditching her latest step family to roam America practicing her murder skills and hopping between jobs, her latest gig as a diner waitress crosses paths with a trio of “Noble Men,” an obvious proxy for Proud Boys complete with plans for a grand insurrection of their own. A pointed insult results in the three tracking Becky to her home, and senseless tragedy soon follows. Also they kidnap her dog, so of course the whole Noble Men chapter has to die now.

Seann William Scott fills the role of comedic-actor-as-menacing-villain this time around, and he brings a collected cunning to Noble Men leader Darryl; his performance and Lulu’s game conviction as Becky are among the few highlights in this sequel. The winking tone shift of Wrath reduces Becky to a freeze-frame daydreaming joke of a hero and reduces Becky’s other prey into a paper-thin analogs for modern conservative types (the Shapiro-esque faux-intellectual, the incel, etc). Whatever actual sense of threat that made its predecessor fun is long gone in favor of splatter gags and self-aware narration. A late-film reveal ends up diminishing Scott’s presence as a villain in favor of an eye-rolling addition to Becky’s kill list, so even that strength only lasts for so long.

Despite featuring a decent head explosion and more bad guys to obliterate, The Wrath of Becky’s anti-hero slasher gore and action ends up feeling inferior as well. Clever traps and cat-and-mouse tension are mostly gone. A lack of suspense – as well as eschewing DIY weapons in favor of crossbows and the Noble Men’s own arsenal – reduces confrontation into hell-yeah fist-pumping slaying that lacks punch nearly every time. The only aspect even more hollow is the attempt at turning the original’s key McGuffin into an item with secret purpose; there’s no clearer contrast between the two films than Wrath of Becky hinging a sequel bait on what was just a plot device to motivate giddy Nazi killin’.

As a film that sees its eponymous character and her penchant for killing fascists as franchise potential, The Wrath of Becky succeeds. As a film that amplifies what worked about the original, this sequel was a much more mixed bag, disappointing and underwhelming despite its buckets of blood and more confident protagonist. Come for the satisfaction of alt-right assholes dying spectacularly; cringe at the rest.