Courtney Howard // Film Critic
BRING HER BACK
Rated R, 1 hour and 39 minutes
Directed by: Danny Philippou & Michael Philippou
Starring: Sally Hawkins, Billy Barratt, Sora Wong, Jonah Wren Phillips, Stephen Phillips, Sally-Anne Upton, Mischa Heywood
YouTubers-turned-filmmakers Danny and Michael Philippou are no strangers to capturing grief through the lens of horror. Their debut feature TALK TO ME plays like a terrifying cautionary tale on addiction, examining the consequences of delving into the supernatural in search of solace. Since there are many permutations of the oppressive anxiety surrounding death, the duo tackles a similar theme from another perspective in BRING HER BACK. Part gutting familial drama, part gripping psychological chiller, this deeply unnerving feature chronicles the heartbreaking, self-destructive toll mourning and loss can take on those most vulnerable. It’s not for the faint of heart, nor the full of stomach.
17-year-old Andy (Billy Barratt) is the protective older stepbrother of young Piper (Sora Wong), who is blind and coming-of-age in a cruel world. Andy tells his sibling little white lies to shield her from harsh realities, everything from encountering mean girls to more serious domestic matters, if he feels these things shouldn’t affect her. He also secretly shoulders a lot of guilt and unease over his troubled adolescence – psychological trauma he’s overdue to confront. Though Piper knows when Andy’s fibbing, she’s typically more than content to have him provide that buffer. Yet the pair face their biggest challenge yet when Andy’s father (Stephen Phillips) suddenly dies, sending them into the Aussie foster care system for at least the next three months before Andy turns 18 and can be Piper’s legal guardian.
Facing a split, social worker Wendy (Sally-Anne Upton) takes pity on the siblings, remanding them to the temporary care of child counselor Laura (Sally Hawkins). Laura has recently suffered the loss of her teen daughter Cathy (Mischa Heywood) and is already keen to open her home to children needing nurturing and affection. But when Andy and Piper arrive, things appear more than a little odd. Not only is Sally’s parenting style unconventional (getting her charges drunk and watching Satanic rituals), there’s another kid in the house: mute, emaciated Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), who frequently escapes the confines of his locked room to terrorize the cat and generally creep everyone out due to a mysterious malady he’s suffering from. It’s going to be an interminable amount of time before Andy and Piper can leave – if they even can.
Much like in their previous film, the Philippous are absolute magicians conjuring an eerie, unsettling atmosphere. The brutal, grotesque imagery is visceral and distressing, causing me to almost puke, specifically during Oliver’s binge. Dread, fear and an overwhelming sense of sorrow permeate the picture. Emma Bortignon’s pristine sound design fuses terror and tenderness, giving the scares and soundscapes within the home a tactile quality, from its hard surfaces to its softer fabrics. Aaron McLisky’s cinematography is poetic, evoking the evolving character drive and thematic tones. It seems like the bleaker and more disturbing the circumstances get, the deeper the saturation in the color palette grows. Cornel Wilczek’s prickly compositions greatly augment atmospheric unease. Production designer Vanessa Cerne’s work complements camera movements, weaving the circle motif through the aesthetics with subtlety, from the mirrors that hang on the wall to the iron sculpture in the front yard.
Though we’re able to concisely map the journey the Philippous are taking us on, and it’s a blessing they never fall back on expected tropes, the story contains a handful of weak links. There are contrived happenings and big leaps in logic to align its puzzle pieces. The circumstances involving a missing child, Laura’s dead daughter and the entire operating system of the Australian Child Services all elicit more questions than answers. And the POV switch from Andy to Piper in the 3rd act is difficult to buy given her character is severely underdeveloped up to that point.
Unlike Andy, who’s gifted with a redemptive hero’s journey, Piper is not allotted tangible character-defining turns so much as ruthlessly punishing realizations, learning that all the parental figures she’s trusted have been abusers. While it’s admirable that the filmmaker twins, working off a script by Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman, astutely observe how succumbing to remorse can lead to desperate, self-sabotaging, monstrous madness, their execution lacks finesse in bringing their haunting, gut-punching finale to a close, inevitably asking us to empathize with Laura by film’s end. Given the expansive damage done, our allegiance lies with her victims and not the perpetrator, who’s a victim of despair herself.
Where the narrative turns up spotty, Hawkins and Barratt’s standout performances serve to elevate the picture. Hawkins is a powerhouse, nimbly negotiating the shifting tones with deft ease and grace. It’s a sight to see her flip the switch from warm, friendly nurturer to cruel, psychopathic manipulator. Barratt’s work is top notch, filled with authenticity, strength and vulnerability.
With sentiments playing like a companion piece to PET SEMATARY (1989) and, to a lesser degree, FLATLINERS (1990), BRING HER BACK is a bloody effective mixed bag of goods.
Grade: 3.5 out of 5
BRING HER BACK opens in theaters on May 30.
