Why Weapons Is Great Until It Isn't: Plot Holes, Witches, and That Final Scene

Horror Without Answers: The Problems with Weapons' Ending Explained

Some horror movies are like roller coasters — all momentum, twists, and adrenaline, with the expectation that the final drop is what makes you scream and clap. Weapons sets itself up perfectly for that ride. It’s strange, nonlinear, haunting, and often gripping. And for about two hours, I was locked in, convinced Zach Cregger had delivered one of the smartest horror films of the decade.

But then came the ending. Or more accurately, the lack of one.

And when you step back to ask: Why did any of this happen? the answers dissolve into thin air.

The Setup: 17 Kids, 2:17 a.m.

The premise is gold: 17 students vanish in the dead of night, caught on ring cameras sprinting from their homes at exactly 2:17 a.m. No screams, no kidnappers, just a synchronized march into oblivion.

The town is left to unravel: police flail, parents rage, conspiracies spin. Suspicion lands on a teacher (Julia Garner) and a lone student who inexplicably didn’t vanish. And from here, the movie weaves through fractured perspectives — grieving parents, school officials, a troubled addict, and finally the boy’s increasingly tense home life.

It’s nonlinear in the best way, with puzzle pieces sliding into place as we inch closer to the truth.

Enter Gladis, the Witch With No Rulebook

The “truth,” as far as Weapons offers one, is Gladis — a sickly “aunt” who moves into the boy’s house and turns out to be a full-blown witch. She keeps a bizarre tree in her room, makes wands out of its branches, and uses bowls of water, bells, and personal items (like school name tags) to enslave people.

The result: she drains life out of the boy’s parents, then escalates to controlling the 17 kids, luring them into her basement as living batteries.

It looks terrifying on screen — zombified parents stabbing themselves at her command, blank-faced children waiting in the dark, the bell ringing in the night. But the longer you think about it, the less any of it makes sense.

• Why is Gladis sick in the first place?
• What is she even trying to heal? An illness? Old age? A curse?
• If draining parents didn’t work, why would 17 kids suddenly solve it?
• How does this tree exist, and why does it grow in the back room of a random suburban house?
• If she’s been around forever, why now? If she’s new, why this town?

The movie provides no answers. And while I usually love horror that keeps its monsters mysterious, here it feels like the script simply didn’t care. Without any logic, Gladis becomes less a character and more a convenient horror device.

The Climax: Catharsis at Last

To the film’s credit, the final act is electric. Josh Brolin plays a father whose grief turns to obsession — he maps the kids’ synchronized paths, realizes they converge on the boy’s house, and storms the place with the teacher.

The reveal of the basement, the fight with the zombified parents, and the eventual turn — when the boy uses the witch’s own magic against her — is brutal and satisfying. Seventeen children sprint into the night like a wave of possessed bloodhounds, tearing through fences and houses until they corner Gladis and literally rip her apart.

That chase sequence? Pure horror catharsis. Easily one of the best third-act payoffs I’ve seen in years.

And then… it stops.

The Ending That Isn't

After the witch’s death, the kids are left blank, waiting for commands that will never come. Brolin finds his son among them, hugs him, and cries. It should crush you emotionally.

Instead, the movie cuts to a narrator — a young girl we’ve barely heard from — who blandly explains that time has passed, some kids are improving, and maybe recovery is possible. Then credits.

No emotional closure. No real gut-punch of despair. No cathartic sliver of hope. Just… a shrug.

And worse: the narrator herself raises new questions. Who is she? A survivor? If so, why wasn’t she present in the main story? If she represents one of the rescued kids, why is her condition different? None of this gets answered, and the ambiguity doesn’t feel artistic — it feels lazy.

The Core Problem: No "Why"

Here’s why this ending stings: it highlights how Weapons never had a core reason for existing. Gladis does what she does, but we’re never told why. Horror thrives on rules — even loose ones. Freddy kills in dreams. Dracula drinks blood. The Babadook feeds on grief.

Gladis? She drains people… to get better… but never actually gets better. She collects kids… for fuel… but to what end? She’s sick… because the script says so.

That lack of foundation makes the climax feel hollow. The ride is thrilling, but the destination is empty.

How It Could Have Landed

Two quick fixes would have turned this into an all-timer:

1. Give Gladis a core motive. Is she trying to cheat death? Sustain immortality? Pass her sickness onto another generation? Any reason at all would anchor the horror.
2. End with an emotional punch. Either tragic (the kids are lost forever) or hopeful (one child snaps out of it, says “Dad,” and the spell is broken). Instead, we get half-baked narration that dodges both.

Horror doesn’t need neat bows, but it does need feelings. And Weapons deliberately avoids both despair and hope, leaving you stuck in limbo.

Land of Geek Rating: Weapons

Score: 3.5 out of 5 stars ⭐⭐⭐✨

A stylish, unnerving horror that delivers goosebumps and one of the best chase sequences in years — but fumbles its final moments and never explains its own monster.

Pros ✅

• Nonlinear storytelling keeps the mystery engaging.
• Julia Garner and Josh Brolin deliver grounded, emotional performances.
• The witch’s control sequences (parents stabbing themselves, the bell summoning kids) are genuinely chilling.
• The third-act chase with the kids hunting Gladis is pure horror catharsis.
• Gorgeous visuals and moody editing — you can feel the Fincher influence.

Cons ❌

• Gladis has no defined motive or backstory — why is she sick, why kids, why now?
• The tree, wand, and bell magic system feels random with no clear rules.
• The narrator in the ending feels tacked on, leaving the story hollow.
• Emotional payoff is missing — neither tragic nor hopeful, just abrupt.
• Too many side vignettes (junkie, principal, cop’s wife) dilute the core story.

Weapons is one of the most frustrating horror films in recent memory. It’s beautifully shot, well-acted, and structurally clever, with sequences that had me grinning at how bold they were. The witch reveal, the control mechanics, the chase through the neighborhood — it’s all the stuff of horror greatness.

But the ending exposes the script’s soft underbelly: no clear rules, no core logic, and no emotional commitment. Gladis isn’t terrifying because she’s mysterious — she’s confusing because she’s unfinished. And the finale doesn’t feel tragic or hopeful — it just feels like the filmmakers didn’t want to choose.

I’ll still recommend Weapons for horror fans. The ride is worth it. But don’t be surprised if you leave the theater thinking, That was amazing… wait, what the hell was the point of any of it?

Stay sharp with more horror dissections and spoiler-deep dives at Land of Geek Magazine — where we don’t just watch horror, we weaponize it.

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