Back in 2022, the supernatural shenanigans of Talk To Me not only introduced the world to the filmmaking talents of the fabulous Phillippou brothers, but it also put the likes of Robert Eggers and Ari Aster on notice that they weren’t the only directors around who excelled at unleashing horror-based trauma on an unsuspecting audience. However, after their truly stonking debut, Michael and Danny have returned with Bring Her Back, another homegrown shocker that continues to play in their familiar sandbox of devastating grief meeting savage violence with demonic influences. However, for those that hailed Talk To Me for being unrelentingly grim, I’m here to report/warn that we apparently hadn’t seen anything yet as Bring Her Back is as ferocious a horror film as you’re likely to see this year that truly doesn’t give a fuck about trashing taboos and emotionally scarring anyone who is solely familiar with Sally Hawkins for her role in Paddington. Behold ladies and gentlemen, the feel-bad movie of the year is here.
Like most of the freakish ghost/demon movies that come out these days, Bring Her Back starts with a tragic loss as step-siblings Piper and Andy find their father lying on thr floor of his shower, dead. As they’ve no other parents left and Andy is still three months from reaching his eighteenth birthday both the kids have to go into some sort of care; however, as Piper is severely partially sighted, she’s going to need some extra special care and that’s when the two kids go to meet Laura. Not only is Laura a former councillor and once had a blind daughter herself, but she’s exceedingly bubbly and eccentric as hell – but even though she’s had issues with older, troubled kids before, she consents to letting Andy stay to avoid the siblings getting separated.
It’s here that things start to get fairly strange. Laura’s daughter, Cathy, drowned in her swimming pool after a tragic accident and her grief is somewhat mirrored by the loss that Andy and Piper have felt, but while Piper is treated like a princess, there’s a sense that there’s a fair bit of gaslighting going on when it comes to Andy, who seems especially traumatised by his father’s death. There’s also the rather peculiar case of Oliver; the other, strange, mute boy that Laura is fostering and general sense of unease triples whenever the weird little kid wanders into a room and just stares blankly at whomever is in it.
However, matters suddenly start getting messy after a spot of shocking self-mutilation that occurs when Andy is left to babysit Oliver and it soon becomes worryingly clear that something dark is brewing. What are the images that flicker on the old, worn VHS tape that Laura keeps referring to; what lurks within a locked freezer in the shed; what is the significance of the massive painted circle that surrounds Laura’s property and seriously – what the fuck is up with Ollie? By the time we find out, it may already be too late.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d have to say that the Phillippou Brothers took a long hard look at all the genuinely shocking moments and grief farming Talk To Me managed to achieve, turned each other, and in a single voice, said to one another “we can go harder”. While an argument could be made that the Australian filmmakers haven’t exactly stepped out of their highly uncomfortable comfort zone, you could also argue that after discovering what they could get away with in the debut sensation, they knew how really do some damage this time. And do damage they do – both emotionally and physically as they rejumble Talk To Me’s greatest hits (life shattering grief, suburban set supernatural shenanigans, young kids indulging in legitimately harrowing acts of self harm) into something far more grave. The result is a slow, brooding ordeal that strongly invokes the creeping dread of Hereditary as and other worldly conspiracy seeks to envelope our two young leads, however, where Bring Her Back is subtly different, is thanks to who is behind the creepy stuff.
As a horror fan, I have to say that the fact that Sally Hawkins chose to do this instead of, say, Paddington In Peru, gives me nothing but vibrant joy, not because I have anything against Paddington, but that’s exactly the kind of artistic leap I truly love to see – and also because after her parenting in this, no one would probably let her anywhere near a traditional mother role ever again. As expected, she is a powerhouse in the role of the conniving, gaslighting, yet tragically damaged mother who is in the midst of some truly horrific acts of trying to get past the death of her beloved, blind daughter.
Being overwhelmingly friendly in one scene and then hoiking down her knickers to piss in a jug to frame the traumatised Andy as a bed wetter the next, she’s unbearably addictive to behold and the fact that she’s a seemingly normal woman who has been broken to the point of watching grainy video tapes as a how to guide to resurrect the dead gives her vast amounts of pathos among her creepy vibes. Thankfully, Sora Wong and Billy Barratt are able to keep up with her as the two kids whose lives implode in a series of traumatic brushes with death. The Phillippous reliably frame death as an invasive, damaging, wounding event, but also creates a morbid fascination about the rather complicated rules that Laura has to follow to on order to perform her unholy reunion. Invoking Ringu with the scratchy VHS that Laura uses as an instructional video, the movie takes such care presenting the various stages of the ritual, you find yourself partially hoping it will actually happen despite yourself just to see if it works. Of course, this leads to the most memorable aspect of Bring Her Back, which proves to be the blank-eyed, mute Olvier who manages to be the weirdest fucking kid we’ve seen on screen in a long damn time. It’s obvious from the first moment we lay eyes on this child that something is catastrophically not right with him and as more of the plot and backstory is revealed, his behavior becomes all the more erratic. In fact, in a year that’s already been laced with top notch horror films that all came ready to fight with some startling imagery, the Phillippous may have somehow beaten them all with a moment involving a piece of cantaloupe and a kitchen knife that will stay with you for weeks. Similarly, other Oliver related fuckery than involves a kitchen tabletop and his long suffering dental work will cause even the most hardened horror fan to recoil in shock.
However, the directors are smart enough to realise that framing truly hideous acts of self inflicted violence and a legitimate feeling of lingering evil may nail the horror contingent, but it’s the pathos and examination of grief that makes Bring Her Back special. There’s absolutely no chance you’re leaving the theatre in a happy place after this (s’cool, I didn’t need the ability to feel joy for the next few days, anyway), you will be left in a state of exhilaration as the Phillippous cement their credentials even further by dunking you headfirst into the grimmest experience of the year.
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