sally hawkins

Bring Her Back (2025)

/ swampflix / 6 Comments

I was in the minority of people who saw Talk to Me in 2022 and felt indifferent toward it. Most people either loved or hated it (Brandon enjoyed it), and while I thought the ending (and I do mean the very ending, like the last minute or so) was novel and fresh, I found the overall experience to be a fairly rote possession story with little to make it stand out. When I heard that the directors, twins Danny and Michael Philippou, had a new feature coming out, I didn’t pay much attention to it despite it getting the same kind of word-of-mouth hype that Talk to Me had. Brandon asked me if I was interested in this one and I didn’t even know what he was talking about, but it wasn’t until the movie got the approval of a couple who work at my local coffee shop (hi, Michael and Brandon P.!) that I gave this one any serious consideration. I bought the tickets for me and my viewing companions in person in advance (the only way to make sure that you both get the Tuesday discount and that the tickets don’t sell out), and the theater employee nervously asked me what I had heard about the film as I was paying. I told her I hadn’t really heard anything, and she said that people had been coming out of the film talking about how frightening and gory it was, and that she wasn’t sure she would see it. After those two incidents, I was pretty excited, and I can say I was definitely not disappointed. 

Piper (Sora Wong) is the visually impaired younger stepsister of loving, caring Andy (Billy Barratt), and the apple of her father’s eye. Coming home one day, Andy discovers his father’s dead body lying on the bathroom floor, the shower still running, and although he tries to keep Piper away, his own shock prevents him from stopping her from touching the corpse. Andy’s not quite eighteen and thus can’t take guardianship of Piper, so child services places her with a woman named Laura (Sally Hawkins), who recently lost her own daughter, Cathy. Cathy shared Piper’s visual impairment, so her home is already set up with many of the accommodations that Piper would need, like taped-down rugs. Andy, afraid of losing Piper, begs social worker Wendy (Sally-Anne Upton) to convince Laura to take him in for the next few months until he can take guardianship of Piper on his birthday. Wendy cites that Laura has had bad experiences with other foster children with a past history of violence, obliquely alluding to something in Andy’s past, but is ultimately successful in keeping the step-siblings together with Laura for the time being. Upon arrival, however, Andy is immediately treated as extraneous and unwanted; Laura calls him “Anthony” and “Andrew,” and while Piper gets set up in Cathy’s untouched bedroom, Andy gets plopped in a room that’s mostly been used for storage, stuck on a mattress that’s too short for him, directly on the floor, and an accordion pocket door that neither closes nor locks. Laura is also fostering another child whom she introduces as Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), who exhibits odd behavior that the audience initially dismisses as a response to trauma in whatever home he has been taken from, but which could be something more sinister.

This is a great set-up, and goes in some really great directions from there. Before we meet Piper and Andy, we are treated to a scene on a VHS tape in which various people speak Russian and there appears to be some kind of possession or exorcism ritual being performed, which includes one of the participants being “confined” within a white ring of some kind. When we see that there is a white line that Andy and Piper have to cross in order to approach Laura’s house, we’re immediately clued in that something fishy is afoot, even before we get to witness the discrepancy in the way that Laura treats her two new fosters. The gaslighting of Andy (and, to a lesser extent, Piper) begins almost immediately, as Laura deliberately ostracizes her new foster son, completely disregards his privacy by reading his text messages (above and beyond sticking him a room that he can’t even lock the door of), and even pouring her own urine on him while he sleeps heavily as a result of Laura drugging his workout powder so that he believes he’s wet the bed. It’s clear that she knows just how to manipulate a young person who doesn’t have the proper vocabulary to explain their situation to the authorities, and she uses her knowledge as a former social worker herself to goad him into aggressive behavior in order to plant the seed of the idea that he will be a poor guardian for Piper in the minds of both the girl herself and Wendy the social worker. Not simplifying matters is the fact that although Piper loved and adored her stepfather, Andy’s relationship was more complicated, as their father took his aggression out solely on his son while pampering his stepdaughter. When both were much younger, this resulted in Andy repeating that violence by physically striking Piper in an incident that she doesn’t remember but which he regrets and seeks to make amends for every day. Andy’s kindness and selflessness comes through in the way that he attempts to bond with Oliver when Laura takes Piper out for a “girls’ day,” although things go completely awry in a way that he couldn’t have foreseen, because he doesn’t yet realize that he’s in a supernatural horror story. 

Skip to the next paragraph to avoid spoilers (although they were probably the same ones as in the trailer)! Unfortunately, Laura is simply too well trusted within the social services to fall under suspicion until it’s too late. I don’t want to give too much away here since this is such a recent release and one that I think people should seek out and see for themselves, but there is a demonic entity present in the house and trapped inside of Oliver that Laura intends to use as a conduit to resurrect her daughter in exchange for Piper. (At least one person who edited the TV Tropes page for the film is operating under the assumption that Oliver is possessed by Cathy, but there are several visual indicators about what’s really happening that they must have missed.) It’s not simply that Laura wants Piper around to act as a kind of replacement for Cathy, but that she has ulterior motives that require her to isolate Piper, and Andy is standing in her way. 

This one is very effective, both in onscreen frights and in its somber tone. Expectations are effectively subverted. Throughout the film, much is made of Andy’s consistent workout routine and the bench presses that he does, but when the time comes that all of this would be most effective in saving him, he does not succeed. I got plenty of warnings about this one’s gruesome content, and I might be tipping my hand too much that I’ve been completely desensitized, but I will say that if you’re a horror fan, you’ll largely have seen much of this before, even if it’s still effective here. If you’re prone to gum/mouth/teeth nightmares, be forewarned that this one is going to set off some of those phobias. More important than all of that, however, is that this film effectively forges an emotional connection with the audience. There’s a little white lie that Andy tells Piper at the beginning of the movie to help her deal with her grief, and when that was called back to at the end of the film, I’m man enough to admit that I teared up. This one’s a real knockout. 

-Mark “Boomer” Redmond

Never Let Me Go (2010)

/ swampflix / 4 Comments

The recent critical success of Annihilation (to say nothing about the film’s financial doom at the hands of its distributor) has been a welcome opportunity to look back to Alex Garland’s career-long achievements as a sci-fi screenwriter before he made the jump to buzzworthy auteur in his debut feature as a director, Ex Machina. A significant part of that reexamination has been tied to a rumor, recently confirmed by actor Karl Urban, that Garland was the uncredited director of the sci-fi action thriller Dredd. I very much enjoy Dredd as a slick, bare-bones slice of schlocky spectacle, but it’s not quite of the same cloth as what I enjoyed so much in Annihilation & Ex Machina. To me, Garland’s personal brand of sci-fi is one of heady, introspective melancholy. His films might feature Domhnall Gleeson seducing a sexy robot or Natalie Portman firing bullets at a monstrous alligator-beast, but they’re still works built on the backs of sci-fi ideas, as opposed to sci-fi spectacle. To that point, I’d suggest that the undersung work of Garland’s past is not Dredd at all, but rather the sci-fi melodrama Never Let Me Go. Adapted from a widely adored novel by Nobel prize-winning author Kazuo Ishiguro, who also penned Remains of the Day, Never Let Me Go is a romantic period drama set in an alternate timeline version of the 1970s (and later stretching to the 1990s). It details a decades-long love triangle melodrama between three doomed characters, recalling more the historical romantic epic ambitions of a film like Atonement rather than the shoot-em-up spectacle of Dredd. It’s not an especially fresh, attention-grabbing work. There’s no space travel, ray guns, or alternate dimensions. Instead, it dwells on the glum, moody repercussions a sci-fi dystopia wreaks on the emotional state of the characters who live it, which makes the film feel right at home with Garland’s more recent, more revered directorial efforts.

I was intrigued by the trailer for Never Let Me Go when I saw it nearly a decade ago, but also confused why the advertising made its central twist so obvious. As it turns out, it’s because the main conceit is not a twist at all, but a premise that’s stated up front and seen to its logical, emotional conclusion. A breakthrough discovery in the alternate history 1950s raised the live expectancy rate of the average citizen well past the 100-year mark: clones. Clones are systemically raised as part of an organ-farming program. Donations are involuntary, required without exception, and donors are raised to understand what fate awaits them as their purpose in life reaches “completion” (hint: they don’t get to enjoy the extended life expectancy rate the new technology affords the rest of the world). Our window into this scenario is a traditional British boarding school that only appears sinister at the margins. Cloned children are taught that it’s their special duty to keep themselves “healthy inside.” Chip readers, daily pills, and mysterious art contests hint at the administration behind their care, but we never peak behind the proverbial curtain. Instead, we watch them mimic social behaviors form music & television, find enormous pleasure in the thrift store castoffs of regular children, and search blindly for clues to the identity of the “originals” they were cloned from in any scraps of the outside would they can gather. From this grim backdrop emerges a decades-long tale of unrequited love & romantic jealousy among three of the boarding school student as they age out of the safety of childhood education and into active, repetitive organ donations. Some attention is paid to the mysteries behind the administrative structure of their preparation as donors, but the story is much more concerned with the emotional repercussion of an unfulfilled romantic life of people who were “born” to die young. It’s a small, intimate story told within the context of a massively ambitious sci-fi premise, so it’s no wonder Garland was drawn to telling it onscreen (he was also reportedly chummy with Ishiguro on a social basis, which helps I’m sure).

I can’t kick myself too much for missing Never Let Me Go in its initial theatrical run. Practically nobody saw this thing. It earned $9 million on a $15 million budget, only $2 million of which was domestic box office. The real shame there is that I believe the film could have been a huge hit if it had arrived just a few years later. Its romantic strife amidst a grim dystopia would have been right at home with the YA craze that followed The Hunger Games in 2012. Then there’s the cache of the film’s cast, which only gets more impressive every passing year: Keira Knightly, Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield, Sally Hawkins, Domhnall Gleeson, and so on. With Garland’s recent critical success, Never Let Me Go now has a unique context as a primer for his auteurist voice, but it’s honestly baffling that the film has yet to become a hot topic before, whether initially or upon reappraisal. The film may be a little low-key melancholy for a star-studded sci-fi picture, but it’s far from the limited appeal of the art house version of this child-farming territory in works like Lucile Hadžihalilović’s Evolution. This is the tragic story of young people being disfigured & discarded by a menacing society who treats them like appliances, but in the midst of watching it the weight of that premise never overwhelms the simple love story at its core. If there’s anything Garland has proven himself to be particularly adept at, it’s achieving intimacy against the backdrop of far-reaching sci-fi concepts and Never Let Me Go is a great, distilled example of how effective that dynamic can be. He’s never quite turned that talent into boffo box office (not even with the popcorn action spectacle of Dredd), but Ex Machina & Annihilation both enjoyed a critical goodwill Never Let Me Go deserves as well. It’s doubtful that wide scale reappraisal is ever coming, since the movie’s previous lack of attention doesn’t make much sense either, but it’s still pure-Garland in its intimate sci-fi introspection, an auteurist voice we’re just starting to fully understand.

-Brandon Ledet

The Shape of Water (2017)

/ swampflix / 18 Comments

Supposedly, Guillermo del Toro saw The Creature from the Black Lagoon as a child and was disappointed that, at the film’s conclusion, the titular creature (also called Gill Man) was killed in a hail of bullets. This isn’t such an unusual reaction to have, given that the film borrowed some rhetorical resonance from the “Beauty and the Beast” archetypes, and hoping that the film would follow through on that emotional  thread and show the monster and his beloved achieving a kind of happily ever after isn’t that unreasonable. He sought out to correct that perceived mistake, and although it may have taken some time, he’s finally managed to put right what once went wrong with sci-fi/love story/1960s period piece The Shape of Water.

Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins) is a lonely, mute night janitor working for Occam Aerospace Research Center in early sixties Baltimore. She is but one face in a multitude of such women, which also includes her talkative friend Delilah (Octavia Spencer), who fills the silence between the two women with stories about her home life with Bruce, the husband who causes her no end of old-school domestic strife comedy. Elisa’s is a life of precision that’s just a step out of sync with the rest of the world: instead of rising in the morning, she wakes at precisely the same time each night after the sun has set and makes the same egg-heavy breakfast meals day after day (or, rather, night after night). She also looks after her neighbor Giles (Richard Jenkins), a gay man in his late fifties, whose intricate and perfect illustrations for advertisements have made him an unemployed dinosaur in the time of the rise of photo ads.

Elisa and Giles share a love of the divas of old Hollywood with their elaborate dance numbers and heightened emotions, which echoes the void in both of their love lives. Elisa has never fallen for anyone, and any love that may have touched Giles in his youth has long since slipped into the abyss of time. This doesn’t stop him from developing a schoolboy crush on the counter operator of a franchise pie restaurant (Morgan Kelly), but Elisa’s loneliness seems to have come to an end when Colonel Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon) arrives at Occam with the “Asset” (Doug Jones), a being that is, for lack of a better term, a fishman. Elisa meets this strange creature when it takes a bite out of Strickland’s left hand and she and Delilah are called upon to mop up the blood. The two develop a bond over music and their mutual inability to express themselves verbally, until the Army orders the Asset vivisected for science. Elisa and her compatriots (along with sympathetic scientist–and secret Russian spy–Dr. Robert Hoffstetler, played by Michael Stuhlbarg) must find a way to save the fishman from the real monsters.

I’m a big fan of del Toro’s, as is likely evident from the fact that two of his films, Cronos and Pan’s Labyrinth, were my favorite horror films of their respective release years. He knows how to take a tired concept like European vampires or fairy tales and suffuse them with a new energy and vitality, even if he does so by looking backward through time. As such, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that this isn’t exactly the most original of premises. A more dismissive reviewer or critic might call this a greatest hits compilation of plot threads from movies and TV shows like E.T. (both in the bonding between human and not, and the The government will cut you up!” angle), Hidden Figures (given that the facility is explicitly aerospace and features the presence of Spencer), Mad Men (in that both works hold a mirror up to the culture of the fifties/sixties as a reminder that to romanticize this time is to ignore many of the prevailing toxic attitudes of the time), and most heist films that you can name. That doesn’t make this film any less ambitious, however, nor does it negate the validity of the emotional reaction that the film evokes.

It’s not just the richness of the narrative text that’s laudable here, either, but the depth of the subtext as well, which even a casual del Toro viewed likely expects. I’ve been a fan of Richard Jenkins ever since his Six Feet Under days (even though it’s not one of his lines, my roommate and I quote Ruth Fischer’s “Your father is dead, and my pot roast is ruined” to each other every time one of us scorches something while cooking), and he tackles this role with a kind of giddy glee that fills the heart with warmth. There’s magic in his every moment on screen, even if his shallow adoration for the pie slinger comes across as a little rushed, narratively speaking, and there’s an understated desperation in his interactions with his former co-worker Bernard (Stewart Arnott). There’s enough of a hint that technological progress is not the only thing that cost Giles his position, and a nuanced tenderness to the dialogue between him and Bernard that hints that there may have been something between them in the past. It’s sweet and heartbreaking all at once.

Strickland is a villain in the vein of Pan’s Labyrinth‘s Captain Vidal: a terrifyingly familiar figure of fascistic adherence to a nationalistic, ethnocentric, exploitative, and phallocentric worldview. Whereas Vidal was the embodiment of Fascist Spain and its ideals, Strickland is the ideal embodiment of sixties-era Red Pill morality: a racist, self-possessed sexual predator empowered by his workplace superiority. Strickland is a man who professes Christian values out of the left side of his mouth while joking about cheating on his wife and threatening to sexually assault his underlings out of the right side. He mansplains the biblical origins of Delilah’s name to her while, for the sake of her job and perhaps her safety, she plays along with his assumptions of her ignorance. This is above and beyond his inhumane (and pointless) torture of the Asset, an intelligent being that he cannot recognize as sentient because of his own prejudices and assumptions about the world.

Shannon is fantastic here, as he brings real, discomfiting menace to his performance in much the same way that Sergi López did as Vidal, including the arrogance of unquestioning adherence to an ideal that privileges oneself at the expense of others. This underlines the importance of this mirroring of characters as a rhetorical strategy: although Pan’s Labyrinth wasn’t created with an American audience in mind, U.S. viewers could reject Vidal and his violence as being part of a different time and place, distancing themselves from his ideologies. Not so with Strickland, who lifts this veil of enforced rhetorical distance and highlights the fact that idealizing and period of the American past is nothing more than telling oneself a lie about history. It’s a powerful punch in the face of the fascist ideologies that are infiltrating our daily lives bit by bit to see such a horrible villain (admittedly/possibly a bit of a caricature, but with good reason) come undone and be overcome. It’s a further tonic to the soul to see him defeated by an alliance comprised of the “other”: a “commie,” a woman of color, a woman with a physical disability, and an older queer man.

I could be undermining that thesis by ending this review here without highlighting or praising Hawkins or Spencer’s performances, but we’re over 1200 words already, and you should stop wasting time reading this and just go see the film. Let it lift your spirit as it lifted mine.

-Mark “Boomer” Redmond