In 2022, writer-director Zach Cregger took audiences on a hair-raising ride with Barbarian, a film that defied genre conventions and cemented Cregger as a major voice in modern horror. Now, with Weapons, Cregger returns with something even more ambitious—both structurally and emotionally. Set to be released in theaters and IMAX nationwide on August 8, 2025, Weapons promises to upend expectations again with a deeply personal mystery-horror built around a chilling central premise: why did 16 out of 17 children from the same third-grade classroom vanish into the night at exactly 2:17 a.m.?
At first glance, the setup might echo familiar mystery-horror beats, but Cregger uses this disappearance as a launchpad for something much more layered. As Cregger describes it, Weapons is “a movie that reinvents itself about every 20 minutes,” yet never loses sight of its emotional throughline. Inspired by the grief of losing a close friend, Cregger says he wrote the script in a state of pure emotional necessity, letting the story unfold without knowing where it would go. “Basically, I’m writing on a tightrope,” he says. “I didn’t know what the movie was going to be until I typed ‘the end.’”
This freefall style of writing gives Weapons its unpredictable rhythm. But despite its twists, the film maintains what Cregger calls “both feet on the ground”—grounded characters, emotional stakes, and a deep respect for the audience’s desire for originality. “This is a movie that starts weird and ends way weirder,” he says, laughing. “But it’s funny, it’s scary, and it’s inviting. It’s not a big, grim slog.”
Part of that inviting energy comes from an ensemble cast that’s not just impressive but unusually structured. Rather than relying on a single protagonist, Weapons follows seven leads, each given their own narrative space in a rotating, interconnected structure. Among them are Josh Brolin as Archer, the emotionally volatile father of one of the missing children; Julia Garner as Justine, the alcoholic teacher whose students vanished under her care; and Alden Ehrenreich as Paul, a recovering addict cop drawn into the mystery against his will.
Brolin, who also executive produces the film, calls the script “exceptional,” comparing its interwoven character arcs to early works by Iñárritu and Guillermo Arriaga. “Each character represented a part of [Zach] dealing with the death of his friend,” Brolin says. “That made it personal for me.”
Garner, fresh off roles in The Fantastic Four and The Altruists, saw Weapons as a rare opportunity: “It was just so original,” she says. “I’ve never read anything like it.” Her character Justine is complex and contradictory—a loving teacher, a spiraling alcoholic, and a woman desperate to connect but unsure how. “This movie, in a weird way, is a love story,” Garner explains. “It’s about people who want connection but don’t know how to get it.”
Ehrenreich, whose résumé includes Oppenheimer, Fair Play, and Solo: A Star Wars Story, wasn’t even a horror fan when he joined the film. What won him over was Cregger’s ability to make genre personal. “It felt like a nightmare born of his mind and soul,” he says. “Every scene felt important—like there was no filler.”
Other standouts include Austin Abrams as a junkie with hidden depths, Benedict Wong as the stoic school principal Marcus, and breakout child actor Cary Christopher, whose performance as Alex—the only child who didn’t disappear—is already being called “extraordinary” by Cregger himself. “I didn’t think of Cary as a child actor,” Cregger says. “He’s just an actor. His instincts are always to play it real.”
Shot in Atlanta, Weapons leans into a deliberate aesthetic of “normalcy.” Production designer Tom Hammock crafted the fictitious town of Maybrook to reflect real-life suburban environments, grounding the horror in something painfully familiar. Costume designer Trish Summerville followed suit, ensuring characters looked like “just people existing,” avoiding any fashion that could timestamp the story.
Technically, the film also breaks new ground. Director of photography Larkin Seiple—known for Everything Everywhere All at Once—placed the camera at character eye-level for an immersive, subjective feel. In scenes with Cary Christopher, for example, the camera stays low to reflect the perspective of a third grader. Meanwhile, Cregger also composed the film’s score with longtime collaborators Ryan and Hays Holladay, bringing a unique blend of musical experimentation to the soundscape.
As with Barbarian, Cregger resists horror tropes and formulaic plotting. “It’s hard to have a story that truly surprises you these days,” he admits. “But Weapons is built on surprises.” That unpredictability is key to the experience, which is why Cregger pleads with early audiences not to spoil the film: “Let people have their pure experience with it.”
Thematically, Weapons speaks to grief, isolation, and the desperate desire for meaning in chaos. The horror, while gripping, is never gratuitous. “There’s something alive in it,” Ehrenreich says. “It’s compelling because it’s honest.”
And perhaps that honesty is what defines Weapons most. Despite its genre trappings, the film is a sincere, emotionally driven work from a filmmaker unafraid to take big swings. “Whether people love it or hate it,” Cregger says, “I won the movie—because I made what I had in my head.”
With Weapons, Zach Cregger cements himself not just as a horror auteur, but as a filmmaker willing to bare his soul through the most unexpected medium. If Barbarian was his calling card, Weapons is his mission statement.