Drag is the winning product of a whole lotta unexpected ingredients. A zany serial killer lock-in produced by Jersey Films 2nd Avenue, aka Danny DeVito and his children? A bouncy original score by Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump? A gripping lead role for Lizzy Caplan, where she barely walks and is pulled around like a sack of potatoes? A bleak and violent horror-comedy that’s co-directed by a former Disney Channel star? Writers and directors Raviv Ullman and Greg Yagolnitzer go all-in on their inverted home invasion thriller, proving to be far more than the immobile gimmick the title suggests.
As mentioned, Caplan stars alongside co-producer Lucy DeVito as sisters in a pickle. Caplan’s elder is the proverbial mucker-upper; DeVito plays the little sibling who’s already achieved much more by life’s scoring system. Somehow, Caplan’s career criminal convinces DeVito’s responsible mamma to play lookout and getaway driver for a supposed easy residential robbery, but what they didn’t account for is a medical emergency. Caplan’s cat burglar doesn’t land on her feet in the bathroom and throws out her back, forcing DeVito to drag the mastermind to safety. A tough task that only gets harder when the homeowner, an abstract artist played by John Stamos, returns home with a groupie date (Christine Ko).
The first portion of Drag is all physical comedy between Caplan and DeVito. It’s a halfway-there Weekend at Bernie’s riff, since Caplan’s upper body is still functional. You’d think the act would grow tiresome, but both actresses sarcastically stoke their sibling rivalry between challenges with rugburn, the devastation of protruding nails, and ungraceful encounters with rock-solid, jagged staircases. It’s a two-hander where DeVito does the heavy physical lifting, but obstacles like wobbly vases provide enough tension in a Looney Tunes-type of robbery gone awry. Caplan is even better in bouts of physical comedy, playing rigid due to her injury, yet emotive as in Silent Era classics, as she’s battered and bruised by DeVito’s inability to steer clear of household dangers.
With the introduction of Stamos’ revered painter, Drag reveals its hand as a Dahmer-in-Picasso’s-clothing flick, much like recent standouts like Villains or Fresh. Caplan and DeVito are trapped in the brutalizer’s Art Deco domain, as flirtatious conversations with Ko’s enamored lover reveal his sinister alter ego. His famous paintings of women with distorted, unnatural features are a tell; Stamos thrives in his scenes as a vile predator who gets off on torturing his muses. Any traces of Uncle Jesse fade into a monster who toys with Ko, his latest plaything, and will slaughter the trespassers who find themselves trapped in a pantry. This raises multiple questions: Can DeVito help Caplan to the car? Do they rescue Ko? Should they kill Stamos and end his serial sip-and-paint massacres?
Ullman and Yagolnitzer experiment with a familial drama under extreme distress, blending slapstick laughs with swollen body horrors. Drag threatens to unspool as a narrative at multiple points, but the ensemble keeps us hooked. Caplan is hilarious in her suffering, enduring bashes and bonks that translate into gruesome cosmetic effects. Stamos spreads his wings as a devilish hearthrob who gets his one Jai Courtney-esque dance number in his undies (shades of Dangerous Animals). Don’t get me wrong, a thinner narrative doesn’t escape a redundancy about the mobility gimmick, but there’s enough to grasp in terms of selfish choices, shared consequences, and the stupidity of hashing out long-gestating traumas in a deadly villain’s den.
Drag can also be, well, just that (a drag). It’s hard to articulate why the film might lose audiences without spoilers, so I’ll say Ullman and Yagolnitzer aren’t afraid of ignoring horror conventionality. The film’s approach to catharsis and reclamation blurs the lines of comedy and cruelty, hinged on gratuitous violence. It’s an approach that worked for me, but it veers overwhelmingly cynical, which is a tough tonal flip after a more upbeat, laughable take on criminal blunders turning into a pastel-dotted fight for survival.
That said, even at its darkest, Drag never succumbs to the one-note possibilities of its bemusing hook. Ullman and Yagolnitzer take some massive risks here, and their fearlessness pays off. It’s a twisted take on reverse-engineered tropes that let its cast shine in spotlight moments, all leaning on Caplan’s unique ability to sell being dead weight for nearly the entire duration. It’s a film full of inappropriate laughs and white-knuckled suspense, and best of all, another universally beloved Hollywood star who makes the most of his viciously antagonistic debut.
Movie Score: 3/5