Talk to Me

After having its U.S. premiere at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, an event responsible for kickstarting the careers of horror auteurs having hosted the debut of Aster’s Hereditary and Eggers’ The Witch,  claims of Talk to Me being “the year’s best horror film” and even “the scariest film since Hereditary” quickly swarmed social media. With such praise, it quickly solidified itself as the genre’s most anticipated release this year. Before our eyes, it appeared as if history was repeating itself, down to the illustrious A24 claiming the film’s distribution rights. The anticipation building up to its release only fueled the burning question: would Talk to Me’s word-of-mouth campaign prop the film up to become a modern classic, or would it be to its detriment? In a year seemingly drought of innovative horror,  Talk to Me is a bone-chilling, refreshing take on the oversaturated theme of grief within the genre, with committed performances and tight direction destined to please anyone in dire need of a good scare.

In the throes of grief after her mother’s death, teen Mia (Sophie Wilde) and her rambunctious group of friends find an escape through a new trend sweeping the Australian high school crowd. A trend that involves talking to the dead via an embalmed psychic’s (or medium’s) hand and freely inviting them to possess their bodies all for a cheap thrill — and likes on TikTok and Instagram, of course. Unsurprising to no one, as the group naively continues to foray into the other side, malice quickly takes hold after one of the possessions goes awry.

Riley (Hill), Mia’s younger brother, partaking in the insidious party trick before things take a turn for the worst.

Twin brothers Danny and Michael Philippou rise to the occasion in directing the gripping (no pun intended) concept, masterminded by writers Bill Hinzman and Daley Pearson alongside Danny Philippou, performing double duty as a writer/director. Their frenetic, bombastic style of helming the camera, evidently translated over from their YouTube career, lends itself to the material at hand and contributes to the youthfulness of the film. Between the Philippous’ direction and Aaron McLisky’s cinematography,  their harnessing of the camera to mirror the animalistic mannerisms of a possessed individual through kinetic montages and camera movements heightens the energy to an uncontrollable degree. Yet, simultaneously the duo doesn’t shy from slowing things down to uncomfortable close-ups whenever necessary to capture the emotional severity of the events unfolding, a testament to their faith in the cast’s undeniable talents.

Much of the film’s weight lies on the back of the leading star, Sophie Wilde, who plays Mia. Throughout the film’s swift 94-minute runtime, Wilde effortlessly plays to the palpable chemistry between the friend group, where she taps into her endearing sensibilities wherein the following scene, the actress is throwing herself with ease into convincing us of demonic possession with her depraved voice and rabid body movements. Oh, and not to mention, throughout the high school drama and demonic antics, Mia is still grappling with the loss of her mother, and Wilde never fails to keep that front of mind. The supporting cast here defies fading into the background and confidently holds their ground against the standout lead, notably Joe Hill as Riley who bears executing the most ghastly possession scene of them all. Hill had the audience wincing along with the pain inflicted on his character all the while maintaining the authenticity and intensity required of him. But like Wilde, Hill gains the audience’s affection through his performance before unleashing the hellish horrors from the afterlife.

A possessed Mia (Wilde) after inviting a malicious spirit to inhabit her body for the sake of a good time, a shining example of Wilde’s ability to shift from her approachable persona to an off-putting demon persistent on inflicting chaos from one moment to the next.

Enhancing the sinister aspects of Talk to Me is the film’s fully immersive sound design, impressive makeup, and purposefully confounding editing. The former gives the film the extra push needed to steep us into these characters’ reality. At one point during my viewing, the audience collectively turned their heads to a corner of the room, fully believing a malevolent entity was humming in the theater with us. Moments like these paired with audio cues to clue the audience in on discerning fact from fiction as the film weaves between reality and fantasy create a fully realized world. As for the makeup department, the few instances of body horror found within the film are downright terrifying, even forcing aversion out of sheer disgust. For the few seconds that the gore occupies the screen, the grisly images crafted through the special effects are guaranteed to occupy your thoughts long after watching the film. Similarly, for the entities that occupy the space beyond, the art direction for them is a take on demons never seen before. As for the bruised and black-eyed appearance inflicted on victims of the game, it achieves its goal of unsettling the audience while maintaining a subdued approach that translates well to the modern era of filmmaking. The final act of the film descends into a “mental mindfuck” and places us directly into Mia’s headspace, having the audience second-guess themselves and question the validity of what is transpiring on the screen, the effect of which is achieved through the masterful use of editing.

Relentlessly paced and unforgiving to both its subjects and audience alike, Talk to Me breathes life into the possession subgenre to great success. After the release of The Babadook in 2014, the horror genre was plagued with uninspired regurgitations of films using grief as a metaphor. Although the film seems to be treading on familiar territory at first, how Talk to Me ends up grounding its characters in truth, even depicting them in an unflattering light at times, paints an honest picture of grief and all of its facets – the isolation it bestows upon its sufferers, the lengths it can lead one to, and most importantly, the ramifications it has on loved ones. For opting to focus on Mia’s journey with grief, however, Talk To Me does miss the opportunity to delve deep into the topic of possession through the lens of social media and Gen Z. Aside from missed opportunities, further missteps in the film’s screenplay include a rushed third act and wonky dialogue that does come off as unbelievable but, the cast’s talent and undeniable chemistry quickly remedy the latter. An unrelenting thrill ride with imaginative camerawork, spellbinding performances, and memorable horror setpieces, Talk to Me is an outstanding debut from YouTubers turned filmmakers, Danny and Michael Philippou, on track to become A24’s next cultural moment.

Verdict: Essentially a modern-day Bloody Mary, Talk to Me is a certified Nick Pick filled with frights and performances to talk about for months to come.