Back in 2013, James DeMonaco introduced America to a (hopefully) exaggerated cinematic dystopia where citizens are allowed to indulge their darkest sins for twelve hours—welcome to the annual “Purge.” We spend the entirety of DeMonaco’s The Purge trapped inside with masked intruders trying to spread lawless violence unto a gated community where privileged upper crusters, including Ethan Hawke, “celebrate” in private fortresses. It’s a Blumhouse production, one that reportedly only had 19 days on a $2.7 million budget. Where the franchise begins makes sense, but its evolution is where Purge night becomes more about the regulated universe, the New Founding Fathers, and the death of any “American Dream” as it no longer exists.
It’s an uneven journey since DeMonaco’s screenplays—and as an extension, his incumbent directors on the backend—don’t even acknowledge the concept of subtlety. These movies are of the exploitation mindset for better or worse, where points hammer home like a slug planted between your eyes. When containment tightens its grip, there’s political satire by the ten-gallon hat and worthwhile frustration as a vocal rallying cry. Other times, the entire anarchistic assault aspect washes thematic expressions in spilled blood as a means to showing those same frustrations but without more staying power than a graphic display of what could be in a different timeline. A gunshot rings out, and the barrel smoke spells “commentary.”
Let’s take a look at the entire Purge franchise as a whole and address how each ranks against one another in terms of the Purge reaching its full conceptual potential.
5) The First Purge
Gerard McMurray steps in to direct the Staten Island introduction of Purge activities, which becomes an indictment of Trump’s presidency in real-time. It’s overboard as headline Trump quotes that dominated Twitter timelines become scathing dialogue (rightfully), when the answer for overpopulation becomes targeting minority communities with a chance to thin the next census count. It’s all overtly rage-fueled with the shortest fuse imaginable but runs into the same issue listed about exploitation being more than showing the horridness filmmakers seek to condemn. To quote my previous review, “Unfiltered anger erupts without warning, but it takes precedence over storytelling, continuity, and other filmmaking aspects.”
Worse off, its technical shine almost seems unfinished at points. Messy green screen background blending and disorienting camera dirtiness during close-ups are a bit tough to ignore. Cinematography becomes beholden to “Horror 101” tricks, and despite a true trendsetting maniac in “Skeletor,” McMurray’s focus on action as Staten Island rebels against “The Experiment” is a starkly contrasted departure. These messages aren’t hidden, nor should they be—it’s all just lacking the calibration to deliver exploitation that strikes for an artery cleanly. Lunges are with maximum effort yet lost within boil-overs that become far more about the stances taken than altogether cohesion.
4) The Purge: Election Year
If you’ve caught on, I’ve mentioned the subtlety of DeMonaco’s writing style throughout the franchise being an incalculable wild card—The Purge: Election Year becomes an example of exploitation gone too wild. DeMonaco strives to make a statement against gun violence while repeatedly failing to separate the action elements from intended messages. As a result, what began as a white-knuckled nightmare (Hawke’s home-invasion defense) devolves into this brightly lit, diamond-studded excuse for violence, vulgar satire, and Frank Grillo stompin’ faces. It’s a malicious midnighter down to Miley Cyrus’ “Party In The USA” blaring over loudspeakers as ravers bask in the Purge’s glorious splattershot outrage (reign it in).
The grandest red flags are a script that cranks the dial on crude dialogue and racial biases as a method of highlighting evil, and yet, I still remember people cheering in the theater during moments that confirmed intent was not clear. When I felt horrified, the common moviegoer could never see beyond flawed messages that rely too heavily on the carnage, the Trumpisms, and the darkest timeline our history could adopt on-screen. These vulgarities are supposed to prove a point—a point that’s dulled and lost as the mania of “Purge Night” takes hold of the New Founding Fathers’ decaying nation. DeMonaco’s aggression here is chaotically admirable if I’m honest but equally misguided—that’s the biggest issue.
3) The Purge: Anarchy
Any film starring Frank Grillo will catch the attention of action fans, and The Purge: Anarchy fulfills those adrenaline junkie desires. Specifically, there’s an ‘80s action swagger as Grillo’s hero takes to the streets in his armor-plated Dodge Charger as a white knight in these Purgified times (with a quest for vengeance). DeMonaco aims at “rich vs. poor” divides as monetary preparation for Purge festivities puts Grillo at a disadvantage, even more so his assembled crew. It’s a bit of an actioner retread that stitches together bullets-and-punches until The Running Man influences sneak into frame, which no doubt disappoints some horror fans.
Michael K. Williams’ Carmello as this rebellious ringleader instigating an uprising is straight out of The Warriors. It’s a whiplash experience watching The Purge and The Purge: Anarchy back-to-back, and I do wish the story wasn’t as cobbled together in a filler sense. Still? The film runs on Grillo’s leathery ass-kicker bravado, and those who can suspend their desire to be scared senseless will approve those Escape From New York thrills (to a much lesser degree, no contest). Not what Purge lovers might have asked for, but that‘s why we judge the films we get—not the ones we desire.
2) The Purge
As an introduction to a more significant idea, I do believe The Purge kickstarts excitement. Ethan Hawke and Lena Headey are undoubtedly the headlining draws, playing socialites who become targets when the perfectly casted Rhys Wakefield appears at their doorstep security camera praising the healing power of Purge punishment. It’s never a tremendously clever reinterpretation of home invasion limits—character motivations and decisions elicit groans from audiences I’ve been sitting around—but does play dangerously within its confines. We never need that push into a raging America outside the classist introduction of Purge blueprints.
There are some wild moments packed into the opportunistic funny games, as Wakefield’s masked clan uses prosperously preppy costuming to drive the increasingly toxic nature of patriotism. It starts with overcrowding in prisons, rising crime rates, skyrocketing unemployment rates as a means to the Purge, and how that unleashes the beast inside specific individuals. Without getting any more complications involved, The Purge stays compartmentalized and pressurized with enough firepower to execute on its means. It’s the proper foundation if you’re into DeMonaco’s apocalyptic Americana screenplays.
1) The Forever Purge
Everardo Gout helms the current franchise capper in The Forever Purge, a film that comes with an unshakable hint of catharsis. It’s as insistently unsubtle as the rest, but after four years listening to a governmental contingency spew hateful rhetoric that makes the New Founding Fathers seem far more realistically illustrated? Gout angles his Purge experience towards action beats as marauders attempt to “cleanse” America of its open border problems, imaging a world where the Purge is year-round by force. It’s one thing when these Purge films were farther-flung figments of the imagination—the last four years of hatred changed all that.
Ana de la Reguera and Tenoch Huerta lead an ensemble that works in the context of DeMonaco’s border commentary. A story that starts with two Mexican immigrants crossing into Texas becomes an inverse of what has once been an American ideal of acceptance and welcomeness. It’s also telling when Gout allows violence to become extreme and who these acts brutalize the most. In an exploitation exercise, this is important because deaths and bloodshed are visual signatures. As much as these moments can detract from the lasting impact of underlying themes, they can also help boost those same words. Also? Kudos to Will Patton’s stances—Purge monologues that nail the franchise’s growth.