Film Review - Bring Her Back
Images courtesy of Sony Pictures Australia.
Hot on the heels of the Phillipou brothers’ runaway success Talk To Me (my review here) comes another Australian take on the possession horror sub-genre, with the wildly anticipated Bring Her Back. After the staggering box office intake of their previous effort ($92 million from a budget of $4.5 million ain't too shabby), the directors receiving countless accolades in the genre community and even drumming up somewhat of a cult following thanks to the iconic graffitied hand (perfectly merchandised by Umbrella Entertainment), is it possible that Bring Her Back could deliver on the hype, and maybe even outdo its predecessor?
Following brief VHS footage of a ritual gone wrong, we're introduced to Andy (English actor Billy Barratt) and the mostly-blind Piper (Aussie talent Sora Wong), half-siblings who enter the foster system after their father dies due to a slip in the shower. Desperate to try for custody of Piper once he turns 18 in just a few months, Andy insists the two stay together and thus, they fall into the clutches of Laura (the esteemed Sally Hawkins in her most potent role since The Shape of Water, pulling off an extremely convincing Australian accent). Laura is no stranger to loss, as she still seems to be coping with the death of her own maternal daughter, and has taken into custody the selectively mute Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), a young boy who she insists must not be let outside of the house.
The Philippou brothers have perfected their ability to make violence feel agonisingly real, merging over-the-top shock and raw brutality, much of which is inflicted on, and by, its young leads. Unlike Talk to Me, which had a singular moment of what I would consider extreme terror, Bring Her Back delivers multiple scenes of primal carnage, each one more excruciating than the last. But it’s not just about the blood - it's about the weight of the violence, the way it lingers and gnaws. Bitemarks, loose teeth, and decaying corpses are captured with unflinching detail, forcing the audience to sit with the horror rather than be momentarily jolted by it. This is the kind of ballsy shit I've been begging for in wide release horror, and even I had to double check whether I'd maybe done a monkey's paw on myself and asked for a little too much.
The film’s sound design is instrumental in its suffocating atmosphere. Every impact, every wound, every desperate breath is amplified to unbearable levels, with the Phillipous again opting to use a soundbed of underwater gurgling, this time grounded in the story with the tragic fates of both Andy and Piper's dad, as well as Laura’s daughter. You don’t just watch what happens - you hear it, feel it, and dread what might be around the corner. The cinematography is equally unsettling, using tight, claustrophobic framing, shallow focus, and circular turns of the camera to create a sense of helplessness as the siblings are pulled further into Laura's grasp. Piper’s impaired vision is reflected in the visuals, forcing the audience into her perspective - disoriented, vulnerable, and increasingly terrified - and the motif of a ritualistic circle hammers home the cyclical nature of abuse.
Sally Hawkins is a standout as Laura, channeling grieving psycho-biddy (albeit to a much more subdued degree than this year's The Rule of Jenny Pen). Her sadness is so achingly authentic that even in her most monstrous moments, she never completely loses the audience’s sympathy - making her all the more terrifying. Barratt and Wong bring depth to their roles, their sibling dynamic providing the heart of the story, but it's Jonah Wren Phillips that sells the creepy kid of it all, bringing to mind Milly Shapiro’s work in Hereditary. There's something clearly off about Phillips’ Oliver from the get go, and as the film progresses, he only gets more and more fearful to behold, culminating in a particularly harrowing moment of body horror near the film's apex that sees him fitted with a prosthetically distended belly.
But beyond its unflinching gore and psychological torment, Bring Her Back is a film about the terrifying consequences of refusing to let go. It’s a parable on grief that festers, love that warps, and desperation that leads to horrifying choices that no human in their right state of mind would make. Judging by the various post-screening reactions I heard (generally along the lines of “great movie, but I'm never watching that again”), as well as a handful of walk-outs, it's clear the Philippou brothers have crafted a horror experience that doesn’t just scare - it leaves wounds. If Talk to Me was a party, Bring Her Back is a funeral. Leave the flowers at home.
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Bring Her Back is screening in cinemas from Thursday 29th May. For tickets and more info, click here.