Towards the climax of “Bring Her Back,” Andy (Billy Barratt) confronts the social worker that sent him and his stepsister Piper (Sora Wong) to live with their new foster mother, Laura (Sally Hawkins). Something is deeply wrong with Laura, and Andy believes his sister Piper is in terrible danger.
Of course, no one believes him. Andy has a troubled, somewhat violent past that he has struggled to move on from, and the powers-that-be think these accusations against Laura are the product of psychosis brought on by the sudden death of Andy’s father – his staunch belief that Laura is dangerous is nothing but a manifestation of his grief and trauma. Andy rejects this assumption, screaming that this has nothing to do with his father’s death, or whatever damage he might have suffered as a result – there is something wrong with this woman.
Perhaps I’m reading a little bit too much into this exchange, but in this day and age, a character insisting that the horror movie they’re in has nothing to do with trauma is a pretty funny bit. So many modern horror movies deal in trauma (or, as Jamie Lee Curtis would say, “trowma”), including “Talk to Me,” the last film from “Bring Her Back” filmmakers Danny and Michael Philippou – although, that trauma narrative is far less interesting than the film’s unwavering commitment to cruelty.
I feel roughly the same about “Bring Her Back” as I do “Talk to Me.” It’s quite an upsetting film with some good performances, and the Philippous have a real eye for practical effects and nastiness. But, there’s not too much going on underneath that grimy sheen. I appreciate the Philippous’ commitment to the visceral and the creativity of the premise. But, while “Talk to Me” is about as nasty as it gets, “Bring Her Back” is going for something far more sentimental by its end, and it doesn’t earn the depth of emotion it wants to achieve.
After Andy’s father dies, he and Piper are almost separated by the foster system. But, because Piper is visually impaired, Andy’s insistence that he should stay with her – and the fact that he wants to become her legal guardian when he turns 18 in a few months – holds some weight. When the two show up to their new home, they’re surprised to learn that not only did Laura have a blind daughter about Piper’s age who passed away, but there is another occupant in the house – a young boy named Ollie (Jonah Wren Phillips). Ollie doesn’t talk. He doesn’t do much of anything, really, but stare sullenly at the other residents of the house and torment the cat. When Laura isn’t home, she leaves Ollie in his room and locks it from the outside. Everything is fine.
Phillips’ performance as Ollie – who, it will come as no surprise, is more supernatural force than child – is one of the film’s best and, oddly enough, manages to offer a little bit of humor in an otherwise bleak narrative. As the pieces start to come together as to what Ollie wants from Laura (and what she wants from him in return), his constant dead-eyed stare feels like a ticking clock following her around the house, a malevolent and also loosely annoying reminder of what needs to be done. Without saying a word, he has the energy of the plant in “Little Shop of Horrors” – “Feed me, Laura, feed me now!”
This type of extraordinarily dark humor within such a bleak film is also part of what felt fresh about “Talk to Me,” and is probably what best represents the Philippous as a horror team. They certainly have the talent for horror hallmarks to go along with that sensibility, particularly when it comes to the sound of the film, overseen by sound designer Emma Bortignon. Normal sounds – the clack of a keyboard, the sound of wheels rolling down a hallway – are far too loud for comfort, and you often hear the terror before you see it. There’s a moment involving Ollie and a knife that perfectly encapsulates the foreboding sense a good sound can bring.
So, the horror chops are clearly there from a technique standpoint. But what “Bring Her Back” lacks is emotional heft. As much as Andy claims this all has nothing to do with his dad, it kind of has everything to do with his dad. How his father treated him, how his father treated Piper, how his father died – the emotional throughlines all come back to dad.
It’s hard to balance really effective emotionality with the type of vicious storytelling the Philippous appear to be interested in. They are efficient at horror movie setup – making sure the audience understands the relationships, the villain, etc. quickly so the film can move along to the gross stuff that horror fans want to see. But while that quickness can be good under the right circumstances, it doesn’t work when you really want to pull on your audience’s heartstrings.
Laura is a harmless hippie at first glance, but Hawkins plays her with manic intent from the moment we meet her. When early on, she forces Andy to kiss his dead father on the lips, there’s no question in your mind that Laura is bad news. So, when the third act of the film turns into a sort of empathy machine meant to make us feel for Laura, no matter how hard Hawkins works (and she is working hard) to make that turn, the audience has no real urgency to make that connection with her. Barratt is very good as Andy, but if you’ve seen “Talk to Me,” you kind of know where Andy is headed from a mile away, and that expectancy cuts the shock off at the knees. Piper is sidelined from the very beginning, and disappointingly, the fact that the character is blind feels like little more than a way to make her more of a victim.
Shock value is all good and fun, and I appreciate it as much as the next horror fan. But, if there’s no meat to back up your epic emotional ending, all that shock means nothing.