Preamble

It’s a real sign of the times when you start to feel out of whack about release dates. As of writing, Bring Her Back has been released in US cinemas and is currently available on VOD. However, in the UK, it is not released until August. I caught it last night at a surprise horror movie screening at my local cinema. It’s been one of my most anticipated films of the year. With that said, have you seen Bring Her Back? Let me know in the comments below.

Brief Consideration

In some ways, Bring Her Back plays like the starker doppelganger to Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey. Its narrative depicts a Foster Mum’s (Laura, played by Sally Hawkins) desperate attempts to bring back her daughter by victimising a partially blind orphan, Piper (Sora Wong), and her older stepbrother, Andy (Billy Barratt). Much like The Monkey, Bring Her Back deals with how we cope with grief and death. Whilst the former looked at the subject and chose to respond to it with a wry smile, the Australian horror movie instead uses it as a jumping off point to explore the extreme lengths we go to preserve our loved ones.

The approach is bold with many skin-crawling sequences that lean into the scuzziness of the VHS format to paint a harrowing picture of the cult like practices that spur Laura’s actions. The directing duo, Danny and Michael Philippou, punctuate this with the use of shallow depth of field to make the audience perceive the environment like Piper’s, and constraining camera moves that made me feel claustrophobic. In this way, the pair easily top their directorial debut (Talk to Me) from a cinematic perspective. Sally Hawkins is also a revelation in a performance that skirts the line between subtle, passive aggressiveness (via small gestures and emphasised line readings) and operatic sweep, conveying deep-seated pain.

However, for all of the genuine horror and startling imagery, Bring Her Back left me at arm’s length for much of its running time. This is due to its many interesting materials being told to us rather than shown. Whilst the actors do a commendable job in conveying painful truths, they can’t escape the talky nature of the screenplay. Some of the revelations also exist solely for the shock factor, rather than being something that could be explored. A reveal in the third act about Laura’s former occupation is a prime example of this. At the same time, the screenplay tiptoes around some of its more insidious implications, leading to an unearned ambiguity.

The result is an effort that feels empty in what it attempts to convey. It’s neither Monkey’s Paw nor Twilight Zone, but instead a series of loosely connected ideas about grief, abuse and gaslighting that compound to disturb but little else.