Review: Bring Her Back

Score: C-

Directors: Danny and Michael Philippou

Cast: Sally Hawkins, Billy Barratt, Sora Wong, Jonah Wren Phillips

Running Time: 104 Minutes

Rated: R

2023's Talk to Me was a legitimate horror phenomenon the world over. Though it had its flaws, it had undeniable atmosphere and some truly terrifying moments. Expectations were high for the follow-up, which could have gone anywhere and been anything. Unfortunately, Bring Her Back doubles down on the "horror as unresolved grief" concept, and throws in some of my other least favorite horror clichés for good measure.

Billy Barratt stars as Andy, a jock with a heart of gold and a blind stepsister (Sora Wong) he adores. When their father dies unexpectedly, they're sent to live with foster mom Laura (Sally Hawkins) and her adopted son Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), who's gone non-verbal since the untimely death of Laura's daughter. Of course nothing is what it seems at this house. But there's not even a moment when Laura appears remotely normal or stable, so the suspense evaporates almost instantly.

The film then hits the same tired notes of exploring trauma in the midst of violence, and it's an incredibly shallow exploration. Oliver – whose tragic backstory is revealed late – has no function other than to be the creepy kid who just stares out the window with a sinister smile. When that ceases to provide chills, the filmmakers throw a lot of disturbing visuals and blood at the screen in an attempt to extract any sort of reaction from the audience. In the screening I attended, there were few screams and gasps, but a lot of retching and wincing.

For some people, that may be enough. But with so much horror flooding the zone lately, other filmmakers are doing much better at delivering kills and unpacking trauma. This is only a surface-deep trip, with shock value in place of substance. Despite Hawkins's committed performance, Bring Her Back is best left for dead.

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About Kip Mooney

Like many film critics born during and after the 1980s, my hero is Roger Ebert. The man was already the best critic in the nation when he won the Pulitzer in 1975, but his indomitable spirit during and after his recent battle with cancer keeps me coming back to read not only his reviews but his insightful commentary on the everyday. But enough about a guy you know a lot about. I knew I was going to be a film critic—some would say a snob—in middle school, when I had to voraciously defend my position that The Royal Tenenbaums was only a million times better than Adam Sandler’s remake of Mr. Deeds. From then on, I would seek out Wes Anderson’s films and avoid Sandler’s like the plague. Still, I like to think of myself as a populist, and I’ll be just as likely to see the next superhero movie as the next Sundance sensation. The thing I most deplore in a movie is laziness. I’d much rather see movies with big ambitions try and fail than movies with no ambitions succeed at simply existing. I’m also a big advocate of fun-bad movies like The Room and most of Nicolas Cage’s work. In the past, I’ve written for The Dallas Morning News and the North Texas Daily, which I edited for a semester. I also contributed to Dallas-based Pegasus News, which in the circle of life, is now part of The Dallas Morning News, where I got my big break in 2007. Eventually, I’d love to write and talk about film full-time, but until that’s a viable career option, I work as an auditor for Wells Fargo. I hope to one day meet my hero, go to the Toronto International Film Festival, and compete on Jeopardy. Until then, I’m excited to share my love of film with you.