BRING HER BACK Review: The Philippou Brothers Deliver Another Masterclass in Horror

Horror sells.

 

As a standalone genre, horror stands out for its relatively low cost and high yield box office-returns wise. It’s often the gateway genre for first-time filmmakers, hoping to make a brand name for themselves by producing a horror entry that resonates sufficiently with genre audiences to return the original investment 10-, 15-, or even 20-fold. On its own, that explains the glut of horror, most of it disposable, if competently made, and thus forgettable by year’s end (if not sooner).

 

Getting that golden return-on-investment, of course, is easier said than done, especially when said filmmakers have little affinity or love for the horror genre, but when they do, like the Australian born-and-raised, YouTubers-turned-feature-filmmakers Danny Philippou and Michael Philippou and their first, feature-length film, Talk To Me, a supernatural horror tale, the results, visually, narratively, and thematically, stand noticeably above similar contributions by first-timers to the genre. Talk To Me stood out for its expert blend of gnarly shocks, jump scares, and emotional depth. 

 

After the critical and commercial success of Talk to Me, the only question remained was whether the Philippou brothers were one-and-done, riding a lucky, instinctive mix of ideas and practical effects or were they, in fact, the real-deal filmmakers, as talented as they were already obviously skillful. Bring Her Back is their follow-up to Talk to Me, another supernatural tale featuring spiritual or demonic possession, gruesome, cringe-inducing gore, and heartbreak involving well-defined characters, answers that question without reservation or qualification. Only what they do next remains an open question.

 

Before we get to that last question, Bring Her Back centers on on adoptive siblings, Andy (Billy Barratt), just months shy of official adulthood, and his younger, step-sister, Piper (Sora Wong). While their biological connection may be nonexistent, a deep, foundational bond exists between the fiercely protective Andy and the partially sighted Piper. An initial, painfully awkward scene shows as much as Andy swoops in to take Piper home from a bus stop as a gaggle of mean girls practically exude contempt and derision for the lonely, friendless Piper. 

 

Andy and Piper’s bond takes a turn for the worse, not through their individual or collective actions, but through the discovery of their father, Phil (Stephen Phillips), dead at home in the shower, presumably through natural causes. Without options, they have no choice but to go into the foster-care system and a foster mother, Laura (Sally Hawkins, predictably, unmistakably excellent), eager to replace — in more ways than one — her recently deceased daughter, Cathy (Mischa Heywood), with Piper. As Piper and Andy come together as a set, Laura begrudgingly allows Andy to come along with Piper to her seemingly isolated home. 

 

While Andy expects to just wait it out until he turns 18 so he can become Piper’s legal guardian, Laura has something else entirely in mind, starting with a well-orchestrated gaslighting campaign aimed at both Andy and Piper. Through trial-and-error, not to mention the occasional well-placed word or show of faux-affection, Laura hopes to drive a wedge between Andy and Piper, convincing Andy and Piper to set aside any doubts or conflicts and put their trust entirely in Laura.

 

From their arrival at Laura’s home, it’s obvious something’s amiss, though Andy and Piper’s relative powerlessness in an adult world means they can’t do anything about it. The increasingly bruised and battered appearance of a third foster child, Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips),functions as a flashing red warning sign, but Andy, lulled by his impending 18th-birthday and Piper, happy for the supposed safety of Laura’s home post-traumatic life-event, repeatedly ignore it (and him) until, of course, it’s too late. 

 

In her surface-deep, pleasant demeanor, otherwise undermined by emotional and mental instability, Laura falls into the “psycho-biddy” characters (e.g., Betty Davis and Joan Crawford in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?) the Philippou brothers have cited as a key reference for the screenplay. As played by Hawkins, however, Laura emerges as a sympathetic, if deeply flawed, character, twisted into monstrous behavior by the accidental death of her daughter and the possibility, however close to impossible, of returning her from the land of the dead to our own. 

 

The Philippou brothers leave the how’s behind, bringing Cathy back from the other side in an intentionally vague and ambiguous manner. Somewhere, possibly in an Eastern European country stoked in ancient, pre-Christian folklore, Laura somehow learned about a summoning ritual involving human sacrifice and soul transference (among other elements). Driven by all-consuming grief and guilt over her own loss, Laura will stop at nothing to bring her daughter back.  

 

The slow-burn, unbalanced battle of wills results in an unmistakable sense of growing, escalating dread. Between Laura’s diabolical plan for Andy and Piper and the supernatural forces hovering off-screen, presumably waiting to be summoned, Bring Her Back promises genre audiences much horror-wise. The disturbingly realistic set pieces initially focus on the mute Owen, mentally ill or possessed by something far darker, and an unrelenting obsession with self-mutilation. Later set pieces naturally focus on Andy and Piper, separated by Laura’s manipulations, hoping to find — and save — each other before it’s too late. 

 

During Andy and Piper’s first walkthrough of their new home, the Philippou brothers reveal the property contains an empty, unused pool. Keen-eyed members of the audience will linger on the oddly discomfiting pool and wonder whether it’ll play an important role before the film ends. It does, as do a locked shed on the property Laura and Owen enter periodically unnoticed by Andy or Piper and a curiously marked chalk circle surrounding the property. The chalk circle might be keeping something non-natural inside its boundaries or possibly the opposite, keeping something not of this world out. 

 

Ultimately, the Philippou brothers offer satisfying answers to every plot twist and turn, but not before making sure they’ve left the audience on the other side of the screen shattered, devastated, and broken-hearted at the outcome. There’s no cheating here, though.Whatever emotions or feelings the Philippou brothers elicit from the audience are supremely well-earned.

 

If we’re moved by Andy, Piper, and even Laura’s fates before the end credits roll, it’s because the Philippou brothers and their on- and off-screen collaborators make us care for them as fully realized, multi-dimensional characters with interior lives of their own. And those characters and their individual journeys, more than Bring Her Back's supernatural angle in the plot or the gnarly practical effects, will linger with audiences long after the screen fades to black and the overhead lights flicker back on.