French horrors have a reputation of pushing boundaries, so it is surprising to find one- and a home invasion film at that- that is remarkably subdued. David Moreau’s and Xavier Palud’s Them is commonly listed as part of the New French Extremity movement, but the horror here goes mostly unseen, making it by far the least extreme film of its brethren. So no, Them is not the best example of New French Extremity; but if you are a fan of short, well-crafted films which excel at creating tension, then Them is well worth your time for its innovative premise and its use of sound filmmaking techniques.

Set in Snagov, Romania, Them starts with a prologue about a mother and daughter who crash their van on the side of a country road. But let us not talk more on this.  

The real, supposedly (for the gullible) true story, revolves around Clémentine (Olivia Bonamy), a French teacher at a Romanian private school, and Lucas (Michaël Cohen), a writer looking for inspiration in a new environment.  The couple, both French, stay at an enormous but slightly run down mansion. One night, while in bed, Clémentine hears music and decides to investigate. Then the real nightmare begins.

It is hard to watch Them without thinking of the many films it had a hand in inspiring. Significant portions of its premise are reworked by James Watkins’ Eden Lake. The tone and real-time home invasion set-up feels a lot like Bryan Bertino’s The Strangers. In fact, comparisons between Them and other films have helped to keep it in horror conversations for well over a decade.

But there are some things that help set Them apart from these other great horrors. For one thing, Them has more mystery surrounding its assailants. They, for the most part, remain nearly invisible until the film’s final act. And the reveal is meaningful. Another difference is that Them contains almost no gore. Moreau and Palud are far more interested in creating tension using slow building sequences and long takes. This is smart filmmaking that allows viewers to take part in the point of view of the protagonists. We feel like we are there, on that empty country road or in that big house, watching the terror unfold and taking in new information at the same time as the characters. It is remarkably well done.

And of course, Them makes great use of sound, especially that slow, mechanical rattle the perpetrators use to spark dread in their victims. What is making those clicks? Why is that sound so distressing? The answer is wonderfully sinister.

If you are a non-European, its understandable if you did not fully understand the film’s subtle subtext. Them intentionally plays with some of the negative stereotypes that the French, and others, feel towards Romanians. (There is no known Romanian crime that matches the one this film depicts.) But it damns in both directions. Yes, the depiction of these heartless perpetrators would outrage my Romanian grandmother; but the filmmakers make it known that Clémentine has been working in the country for months, yet she still struggles to relate to the people and culture. This helps give the big reveal a sense of irony, along with an added dash of hubris.

Them is a short, competently made, well-paced horror with a haunting end that is not easily forgotten. Its 77-minute run-time makes it an ideal choice if you want to spend a night watching a horror double feature. I ended up watching it back-to-back with the French classic Frontier(s) and really enjoyed the juxtaposition. I doubt any two French horrors could be so different.

Moreau and Palud deserve enormous credit for making a horror that has its DNA in so many films that came afterward.