Bring Her Back
Which makes their follow-up, "Bring Her Back," a bit of a disappointment; gone are the mischievous teen antics and welcome sense of playfulness between the shocking moments of gory violence. Instead, we seem to have regressed closer to the same ol' template. While the Philippou's clearly have a lot of talent in crafting memorable and genuinely upsetting moments of disgusting carnage, their storytelling leans a little too heavily on modern genre cliché, resulting in a viewing experience that is both adrenaline-pumping and emotionally empty.
The inciting trauma is dutifully introduced in the opening scene, as teenage Andy (Billy Barratt) and his visually impaired younger step-sister Piper (Sora Wong) find their father dead in the shower, and are placed in foster care until Andy turns 18. They both move in with Laura (Sally Hawkins), a seemingly kind but slightly off woman with another foster child named Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), who is mute and spectacularly creepy. It's immediately apparent that Laura is only interested (okay, VERY interested) in Piper, while clearly wishing Andy would just go away.
The Philippous slowly and cleverly dish out just enough information to let you know that Oliver is being possessed by something and that he and Piper are necessary for some kind of supernatural ritual. Once Laura opens up about the trauma that she is battling with, you can quickly see where things are headed, even if the exact logistical and historical details are either glossed over or never really revealed (nor are they needed). It's a refreshingly economic movement through a fairly standard horror plot, giving the filmmakers more time to focus on grossing you out.
Which they do very well. Most of the real juicy stuff comes courtesy of the possessed Oliver, who we're told is very hungry and is constantly trying to eat things that just shouldn't be eaten, including hair, knives, his own arm, and in one of the most upsetting scenes (aided by truly unhinged sound design), the mostly unchewable edge of a countertop. Jonah Wren Phillips (a 12-year-old actor who has appeared in the TV shows “Human Error” and “Sweet Tooth") steals most of the scenes he's in, emitting an otherworldly, animal-like intensity with his every movement or bug-eyed stare, even as he's constantly covered in gnarly prosthetics and fake teeth.
Piper's character is much more frustrating, as she seemed like a pretty sharp tack in the opening scenes, but all too easily falls under Laura's spell, her blindness apparently meant to be physical and figurative. Much of the often repetitive second act is Laura setting up Jack to look like a bad brother and an abusive person so that Piper will want to stay with her once Jack turns 18 and leaves. Laura's beyond-obvious gaslighting works like a charm; if anything, it makes Jack the most sympathetic character, as he basically gets dumped on the entire movie without so much as a single moment of triumph or redemption. The movie is incredibly cruel to its characters, most of all Jack, who truly wants nothing more than to take care of his sister. If Laura's behavior is supposed to be commentary about the abuse of children in the foster care system, its surface-level at best.
Sally Hawkins is quite good as the manipulative parent who only really cares about her biological child, gaming the foster care system to produce what she needs and willing to go to the ends of the earth and beyond to cope with her own grief. The movie's climax is a series of fakeouts where it feels like anything could happen, and Laura ultimately makes a decision that aims for empathy when the viewer's willingness to give any to her may have already been exhausted. The movie's dead-serious tone and muddled character arcs make it hard to really connect with any of them, even if their attempts to deal with their various traumas are meant to be relatable.
What you'll really be talking about when you leave the theater are the moments that had you squirming in your seat and watching through your hands. The Philippous may not have hit the same heights they did with "Talk to Me," but there's plenty here to thrill audiences and satisfy even the most serious of gore-seekers. It's just a bit of a shame that it couldn't transcend the staler elements of the genre.
