Mom and Dad stands out as an unusual entry in Nicholas Cage’s filmography, and surprisingly, it's one of his stronger works. The movie features what could be considered the most unsettling birth scene ever filmed, made even more disturbing by a Roxette song playing during that sequence; it poses the question of what would occur if a mother’s protective instincts were suddenly replaced with murderous urges. The fact that the violence is limited to families—parents determined to kill their own children rather than those belonging to neighbors—is as unsettling as any plot twist could be, and I intend that as praise. The filmmakers smartly avoid attempting to explain where the parents' rage toward their kids comes from; it’s just one of those things we’ve come to anticipate from America's seemingly tranquil suburbs. Furthermore, the reason behind this isn't important; what matters is that the concept provides a perfect opportunity for Nic Cage to showcase his intensely fluctuating performance (he delivers an exceptional performance through subtle facial expressions, shifting rapidly between smiles and frowns in a way that makes it difficult to discern which is more unsettling). His character, Brent, is a man experiencing a midlife crisis whose underlying instability is skillfully shown in a scene where he installs a pool table in his ‘man cave,’ only to smash it with a sledgehammer when he can’t get the surface completely level. Mom and Dad is a dark comedy brimming with paradoxical moments of humor. For Brent and his wife Kendall (Selma Blair), pursuing their children as they hide in the basement feels like a second chance at romance, and to justify buying a gun, Brent tells Kendall that “some crazy person could break into the house. How am I supposed to protect us?”, completely unaware that he’s now the dangerous one himself. And then there's a remarkable development later on, almost like an unexpected intervention that nonetheless feels logical, involving a visit from Brent's parents and including a memorable appearance by Lance Henriksen. Despite all of this disorder, the filmmakers manage to develop meaningful connections between the main characters within the film’s relatively short 83-minute length, particularly evident in the initial scenes but also through the effective use of flashbacks.

Source on TMDB