I wanted to sit with my feelings about M. Night Shyamalan's Knock at the Cabin (2023) for a bit before rendering some thoughts
First off, I loved the film in the way that you can afford to love a film when your memories of the superb novel upon which it as based, in this case, Paul Tremblay's The Cabin at the End of the World, are locked away in your mind.
Mr. Shyamalan did, in fact, take several liberties with the story, which has understandably disappointed some folks, though they bothered me less than I expected they would.
I found the essence of the story—the devastation of a very 21st century family under unimaginable emotional assault—to be intact. That was the most important thing to me, along with sterling performances by Jonathan Groff as Eric, and Ben Aldridge as Andrew. There was a surprisingly solid one from Dave Bautista, and Kristen Cui was wonderful as Andrew and Eric's daughter, Wen.
Would I have preferred that the film hew to Tremblay's novel more closely? Of course I would. The novel is, frankly, perfect, and, in the film, I missed the nearly-intolerable tension and mounting dread that undergirded it.
But to be completely fair, Shyamalan still made an excellent film that packs an emotional wallop nonetheless, one that stands on its own merits and didn't dishonour the source material.
I think people should absolutely see Knock at the Cabin, but I feel strongly that they should also read The Cabin at the End of the World as well—preferably first.
As for me, my copy of that glorious novel is right where its supposed to be—on my bookshelf and in my heart. No film, however skilfully rendered, can touch the experience of having read it.
