"Don't Breathe 2"

What are the odds that a second group of people would be foolish enough to break into Stephen Lang's home to try and steal something valuable to him? That's the unlikely premise of "Don't Breathe 2," which can't match the novelty and thrills of the surprise-hit 2016 original.

Uruguayan filmmakers Rodo Sayagues and Fede Alvarez are wise to expand on the first film's universe, which took place entirely in and around Lang's character's home. The clever idea was that he was blind and, in theory, an easy target for burglars. Little did they realize they were unwittingly facing off against a formidable Gulf War veteran who had an intimate familiarity with every corner of the location and possessed heightened senses, making him an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, rendering him an unstoppable force of destruction. Alvarez and Sayagues teamed up to write the screenplay for the original "Don't Breathe," with Alvarez also directing. In this new installment, they contribute to the writing process and share co-writing credits while Sayagues takes on the director role.

They couldn't just remake "Don't Breathe." That would be devoid of enjoyment and a squandering of the talents possessed by everyone involved. Instead, they take Lang's Norman Nordstrom and give him a reason to leave the house. The results are nuttier and more savage but never as tense or tight. And it's harder to root for him to succeed in taking down his invaders, knowing what we know from the first film about his brutal past. Still, some style is on display here, including one impressive, long tracking shot through Norman's house at the start of the break-in; glimmers of that kind of complicated choreography and camerawork emerge elsewhere, but this sequence is the highlight. And with his shock of white hair and sinewy frame, Lang always provides a formidable presence, achieving an air of menace through little more than growls and his physical steeliness.

"Don't Breathe 2" is set eight years after the first movie's events, placing it in the near future for those keeping track. After a destructive house fire, a young girl was left orphaned and stranded in the middle of the street alone. Norman scooped her up, took her home, and raised her as his daughter. He also named her Phoenix, which is only slightly on the nose. Meanwhile, the Rottweiler that follows her everywhere and protects her is named Shadow, and the movie finds a way to get even less subtle from there. Norman has kept her cloistered in their dilapidated Detroit home, but now that Phoenix is a tween (played by Madelyn Grace), she yearns desperately to have a normal life, make friends and attend school. On one of her weekly field trips to run errands with a trusted friend, we see why the outside world is so dangerous.

(Along those lines, it's difficult to determine whether this is the best or worst possible time to release a movie called "Don't Breathe 2" about people who stay inside their house all day; the fact that it's only playing in theaters indicates that the studio hopes you'll be willing to leave yours.)

When a group of idiot tweakers follows Phoenix back home, led by a scuzzy Brendan Sexton III, we discover what they're doing there. The resulting twists go from intriguing to insane, but they change everything, turning a pretty standard home-invasion thriller into something wilder, weirder, and, at times, darkly funny. Sayagues' understated use of silence, creaking doors, and plodding footsteps in the film's first half give way to gruesome, bloody violence and striking sound design as Norman fights off and outsmarts his attackers. Through it all, Grace meets the physical demands of her role, but there's not much to her character otherwise. Phoenix constantly reacts; Phoenix consistently responds, employing the survival skills imparted by her "father" or assimilating fresh revelations about her actual identity. Meanwhile, subplots about an organ trafficking ring and a nearby children's shelter feel wedged in awkwardly.

But the most daring feat in "Don't Breathe 2" is its attempt to rehabilitate Norman completely. It's admirable and even unusual that a studio movie would offer such moral ambiguity in its horror hero—and that's what he is here, comparatively—but the cause for his torment lingers until the end. Despite his good-hearted efforts now and the obvious love for dogs, a certain sickness serves as a shorthand for his redemption. To Lang's credit, we're willing to follow him on his unexpected journey and care whether he can continue kicking ass away from the familiar confines of home. He remains superhuman, despite his deeply flawed humanity.