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Review: The Strange Thing About the Johnsons – When Horror Needs No Ghosts

  • Writer: Khánh Thy Nguyễn
    Khánh Thy Nguyễn
  • Mar 31
  • 4 min read

🚨 Warning: This is a film review and contains spoilers. If you haven't watched the movie yet and want to experience it firsthand, consider coming back here later after you’ve seen it. 🚨


Horror movies often rely on ghosts, demons, and supernatural curses to create fear. The common motifs are familiar: a family moves into an old house at a suspiciously low price, only to discover it’s haunted; a child befriends an “imaginary friend” who turns out to be a sinister entity. After watching countless horror films, I thought I had seen it all—I could predict the twists, the endings, and even the timing of jump scares. What kept me coming back was the thrill of the unexpected, the rush of adrenaline when a perfectly timed scare caught me off guard.

However, The Strange Thing About the Johnsons completely shattered my understanding of horror. Recommended as one of the most disturbing films ever made, I was curious about what made it so terrifying. When the credits rolled, I felt a deep unease unlike anything I had ever experienced before. There were no ghosts, no blood-soaked corpses, and no eerie background music warning of an approaching scare. Instead, the film relied on something far more unsettling: the darkness within human nature.

Ari Aster’s Early Masterpiece

Before directing Hereditary and Midsommar, Ari Aster made The Strange Thing About the Johnsons, a short film that boldly explores the degradation of morality and the unspeakable horrors hidden within a seemingly normal family. Unlike traditional horror films that rely on supernatural entities, Aster’s work presents a different kind of fear—one rooted in reality.

The film begins with a seemingly wholesome moment between a father, Sidney Johnson (Billy Mayo), and his teenage son, Isaiah Johnson (Brandon Greenhouse). Sidney accidentally walks in on Isaiah in an intimate moment, an awkward but seemingly ordinary situation. Instead of reacting with anger, Sidney gently reassures his son, telling him that his actions are natural and nothing to be ashamed of. At first glance, this scene feels warm and understanding. But the mood shifts dramatically when the camera reveals the photograph Isaiah is clutching—it is a picture of his father.

In that single moment, the film establishes its unsettling tone. This is not just a story about a dysfunctional family. It is a film about an unspeakable horror unfolding within the walls of an ordinary home. The power dynamics are reversed in a way that defies all expectations, turning the common portrayal of a dominant, abusive figure on its head.

Unsettling Atmosphere and Psychological Terror

Rather than relying on traditional horror elements, Aster uses subtle cues to build tension. One of the most haunting moments occurs during a family photo session. While Sidney and his wife, Joan (Angela Bullock), pose for the camera, Isaiah stares at his father with an unsettling intensity. His wide eyes and unblinking gaze do not convey love, but something darker—something predatory. It is as if he is a hunter, waiting to strike. The horror does not come from ghosts or violent acts but from the silent, inescapable dread that something is deeply wrong.

As the film progresses, it becomes clear that Isaiah has been exerting psychological control over his father for years. Even after marrying and starting his own life, he maintains his influence over Sidney, turning him into a helpless victim. The reversal of roles—the son as the aggressor, the father as the one trapped—feels almost surreal. Society is used to stories of abuse in one direction, but the idea of it happening in the opposite way is deeply unsettling.

Adding to the horror is the mother’s silence. Joan is not oblivious to what is happening; she simply chooses to ignore it. One of the film’s most disturbing scenes takes place in the bathroom. As Isaiah asserts his control over his father, Sidney’s cries echo through the house. Joan, sitting in the living room, hears everything. But instead of intervening, she calmly turns up the volume on the television, drowning out the horror unfolding just a few feet away. This moment reveals a chilling truth—sometimes, the worst kind of harm is not just from the one who inflicts pain, but from those who refuse to acknowledge it.

A Story That Refuses to Give Easy Answers

What makes The Strange Thing About the Johnsons even more unsettling is its refusal to explain everything. Why does Sidney never fight back? Is it out of fear, emotional manipulation, or something even deeper? Why does Joan choose to stay silent? Is it because she cannot bear to face the truth, or is she complicit in some way? The film never provides definitive answers, leaving audiences in a state of lingering discomfort.

Sidney’s final attempt to break free comes in the form of a memoir titled Cocoon Man, where he writes down everything he has endured. It is his last act of defiance, his desperate attempt to reclaim his voice. But Joan, instead of supporting him, burns the manuscript, ensuring that the truth dies with him. This moment is arguably the most tragic of the film. The horror does not end with justice or redemption—it ends with silence, erasure, and a cycle of suffering that will remain forever hidden.

A Reflection of Real-World Horrors

While the film’s premise may seem extreme, it forces viewers to confront the reality that horrors like this do exist. Cases of coercion, manipulation, and silence within families happen more often than society is willing to admit. The film draws parallels to real-world cases, such as infamous internet scandals where individuals have betrayed the trust of their closest family members in unspeakable ways. The idea that horror exists within the home, within the people closest to us, is far more terrifying than any ghost story.

Final Thoughts: A Horror Film Unlike Any Other

The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is not a film for the faint of heart. It is disturbing, uncomfortable, and leaves a lasting psychological scar. But that is precisely what makes it so powerful. Ari Aster does not rely on cheap jump scares or supernatural forces to create fear. Instead, he exposes the darkest corners of human nature, forcing audiences to confront the horrors that exist in real life.

If you are looking for a traditional horror film with predictable scares, this is not the movie for you. But if you are willing to experience a different kind of fear—one that lingers in your mind long after the screen fades to black—then The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is a must-watch. It challenges, unsettles, and ultimately redefines what horror can be.

 
 
 

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