Film Review - Presence
Images courtesy of Rialto Distribution.
Stephen Soderbergh, the longstanding golden boy of modern independent cinema, makes a return to experimental filmmaking with Presence: a modernised ghost story serving as a deliberate subversion of the genre itself. From the get-go, Presence makes it clear that it holds little interest in giving regard to the shadowy figures which lurk in the dark corners of the room. Instead, it toys with the language of the haunted house film, stripping away long familiarised beats to present something far more internalised; showcasing the horrors of grief’s seeming inescapability, and the quiet, unspoken conflicts that erode the core of the self. The kind of thing millennials often ponder momentarily before repressing all existential consideration with the simple phrase “live, laugh, toaster bath”.
Soderbergh’s approach offers a fresh take on the well-worn narrative of old houses housing malevolent entities, and the emotional anguish which fuels it like gasoline on a spectral fire. Without delving too far into the realm of spoilers, Presence presents something quite unique by opting to stray from the overt paranormal happenings to deliver something far more grounded. By employing such a humanistic and vastly methodical approach, Soderbergh and screenwriter David Koepp seek to distance the narrative from the malevolent forces which plagued the Lutz family and ground it from whisking Carol Anne into the nether realm. Instead, Presence opts for a far more restrained approach that feels like an intimate, psychological study; a film more interested in the vicious familial dynamics which inhabit the century old colonial style than the voyeuristic spectre quietly lurking in the shadows.
At this point, horror’s long serving status as an allegorical vehicle for trauma is a meme, but Soderbergh and Koepp have crafted a deliberate genre subversion which anchors the story in favour of something far more psychological. However, whilst there are points where the film teeters on the edge of something truly profound, it never really makes a leap of faith one yearns for. Yes, it’s a film that lingers in the mind whilst the credits roll on, but it also leaves you with a sense that it could’ve delved far deeper.
Comparatively, Presence somewhat shares a correlative relationship with the 2008 Australian cult classic Lake Mungo. However, whilst Lake Mungo lingers in its spectral ambiguity, allowing its horror elements to fester in the mind whilst amplifying the emotional weight; Presence seems more hesitant, as if it’s constantly pulling itself back from embracing the eerie undertones in favour of something more grounded. Arguably, this restraint is what holds Presence from crossing over into something far more poignant, whereby inhibiting itself from embracing its supernatural themes, it removes a sense of urgency and often pulls back when it should be pushing forward. Arguably, pressing harder into the haunted house angle might have helped tighten its execution.
Neon’s choice to market this similarly to your standard Paranormal Activity sequel is certainly bold and, admittedly, Presence may not immediately come across as the experimental, introspective piece it seeks to be. However, its bold stylistic choices, particularly in its POV framing, succeed where Robert Zemeckis’ Here recently faltered, fully utilising its uniquely immersive framing to heighten emotional resonance and narrative depth as best it can.
At a remarkably tight 90 minutes, Presence is an intelligently crafted subversion of genre which unfortunately only flirts with greater profundity. Suspended in the ether between psychological drama and horror allegory, it never wholly commits to one or the other. Whilst exemplary in its character dynamics and sheer emotional resonance, the reluctance in commitment weaves a slightly undercooked, yet eloquent exercise in subversion, which thrives as best it can in the in-between.
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Presence is screening in cinemas now. For tickets and more info, click here.