By Jake Wilson
BRING HER BACK ★★★½
(MA) 104 minutes
Adelaide brothers Danny and Michael Philippou have a rare gift for communicating directly with a young audience, as they’ve demonstrated on YouTube as “RackaRacka” and more recently as co-directors of the teen horror film Talk To Me, a breakout hit in 2022.
Again scripted by Danny in collaboration with the enigmatic “Bill Hinzman”, their follow-up Bring Her Back looks set to match the success of its predecessor in Australia and beyond, especially given the involvement of British star Sally Hawkins, best-known to the new generation as Paddington’s foster mum, and seizing the chance to show her nastier side.
Jonah Wren Phillips on the set of Bring Her Back.
Hawkins’ character here is another foster parent, Laura, who comes to the aid of a pair of orphans: Andy (Billy Barratt), who’s almost 18 and has a reputation for being trouble, and his significantly younger step-sister Piper (Sora Wong), who he’s determined to protect.
Piper, who describes herself as “partially sighted”, can see little beyond colours and shapes – which is the basis for much of the film’s suspense as well as its visual trickery, with cinematographer Aaron McLisky often keeping the focus shallow even when we’re not literally within Piper’s point of view.
As in Talk To Me, the cast is exceptional. Hawkins’ performance harks back to her days working with Mike Leigh, yet she blends totally into the setting, not only nailing an Australian accent but playing a credible and specific Australian type (Barratt is British too, incidentally, which I didn’t guess while watching).
Sally Hawkins’ performance harks back to her days working with Mike Leigh.Credit: Sony Pictures
One of the film’s key ploys is that Laura is very much the kind of character Hawkins usually plays – warm, scatty, a bit of a hippie, with a cackling laugh and a way of leaning forward to offer a sympathetic ear. We can see why Piper trusts her, and why Andy is willing to give her a second chance, even after he catches her prying into his phone.
Nor is the friendliness merely a mask. Laura is an original yet horribly recognisable creation, the kind of person who congratulates herself on being a life force, who wears a purple cardigan to a funeral to show what a free spirit she is, and because the event should be a celebration.
Like Talk To Me, Bring Her Back is basically a modern Gothic, a slow build to a satisfyingly grisly climax. But it also fits the mould of what is sometimes known as “grief horror” – though an even better label might be “trauma horror”, with child abuse of one kind or another looming large.
One particular element of the subtext is pointed enough to suggest the Philippous have given it some thought. Andy, who lifts weights and has a history of violence, ticks many of the boxes popularly associated with “toxic masculinity”. But though there’s a bid to gaslight him into thinking otherwise, he isn’t the villain of this particular story, which has more than one villain in the long run.
All up, there’s a good deal swirling in the depths of Bring Her Back, much of it left unresolved. I appreciate that the Philippous aren’t big on explanations, but I did yearn for just a little more clarity regarding the role played by the largely mute Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), the other foster child on the premises.
One thesis at least is plainly spelt out: Andy’s protective instincts aren’t misplaced in themselves, but he goes too far when he lies to Piper to spare her suffering. In underlining this, the Philippous are implicitly promising to tell their audience the truth – and granting that the truth can be blurry and murky, I’m inclined to say this promise has been kept.
Bring Her Back is in cinemas from today.
Find out the next TV, streaming series and movies to add to your must-sees. Get The Watchlist delivered every Thursday.