Brea Grant (A Ghost Story) wrote and stars in Lucky, a horror allegory that breeds Kafka-esque mystery with the home invasion genre. Natasha Kermani (Imitation Girl) directs this gripping polemic, which somehow manages to be simultaneously overt and enigmatic. It is certainly an indictment of the way society normalizes violence against women and routinely puts the onus on the victim. It’s for sure a delightful skewering of the fecklessness of the police department. I want to believe that it’s also a scathing takedown of white feminism. But if it turns out that we’re meant to wholeheartedly sympathize with the boot-straps touting self-help author/protagonist, that would mean that Lucky suffers from a bit of a perspective problem. Sadly, it’s that lack of clarity that keeps Lucky from being a home run. Instead, it’s just a pretty good hit.
The film opens on May (Grant) meeting with her agent (Leith M. Burke) about the failing sales of her book, “Go It Alone.” His voice falls on her muffled ears. She’s distracted and the news isn’t exactly good. In the parking garage, May notices that one of her fingernails is split and bloody. At home, she discovers a broken plate and shows her blasé husband, Ted (Dhruv Uday Singh), a comically large shard of glass that she found on the coffee table. He remains unmoved when May rouses him in the middle of the night to tell him there’s a masked man with a knife lurking in their backyard. Ted condescendingly responds that it’s only the man who comes every night and tries to kill them (more her than him, if he’s honest). They merely have to fight for their lives now. It’s not a big deal. Ted bludgeons the man with a golf club. The man bleeds out on their floor. May calls the cops, but Ted questions the point (fair). The body is already gone, just like it always is. The cops take some notes and tell May she’s lucky to have survived, BYEEEEEE. This is the most realistic thing that happens in the film…
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