Talk To Me Review: An Unsettling Horror That'll Get You Talking
- A punchy directorial debut from the Philippou brothers
- A brilliantly realized story, told economically
- Has enough humor and heart to ensure it never becomes a purely nihilistic experience
- Toys with the theme of grief without ever truly diving into it
The best horror movies have the air of an urban myth, the kind of eerie story kids tell each other around the campfire and say happened to a friend of a friend of theirs. From the original "A Nightmare on Elm Street" to more recent films like "It Follows," these are typically otherworldly tales embedded within an unremarkable, unsuspecting suburb — but now, in a world where the younger generation is glued to their phones, crafting a story that has that innate mysticism is a harder task than before. These stories wouldn't be urban myths, confined to a tight circle; they'd be posted across their social media feeds within seconds.
This creates a difficult problem for any horror filmmaker aiming to create a contemporary supernatural tale, as technology means that characters can alert the wider world to the threats against them, even if they are the only ones who can see them. With their directorial debut "Talk to Me," twin brothers Danny and Michael Philippou have done the seemingly impossible, creating an unsettling story with the air of an urban legend without divorcing themselves from the lived-in reality of Gen Z.
Who needs ouija boards to contact the dead?
It's through a Snapchat video that we're casually first introduced to the film's central conceit; gatherings of teens and young adults who meet to take part in séances. By touching an embalmed hand, which seems to have mysteriously passed from owner to owner, and uttering the phrase "talk to me," a lost soul will appear in front of the one holding it — and they are then encouraged to "let it in," but for no more than 90 seconds (there are no "Flatliners"-style testings of these limits).
The results are typically filmed by the others in attendance, their camera flashes lighting up rooms otherwise only lit via a single candle, and posted across their socials. It's a surprise that demonic possession remains mythical in this world when nobody partaking in it keeps it a secret. Why would you when, for example, one of your friends could get possessed by a spirit that makes him start making out with your pet dog? So many horror films introduce disturbing games that make you question why anybody would part with their sanity to play them. The directors, best known for their comic shorts as YouTube duo RackaRacka, do their best to make you understand the appeal of something so dangerous, even if it won't exactly make any viewers wish they could try it out for themselves.
Mia (Sophie Wilde) is reluctantly invited into this world at a time that initially seems narratively contrived. We're told her mother died of an accidental overdose exactly two years prior to this day and combined with the brief lore explaining the rules of the séance, many in the audience will begin mapping out exactly how this can go wrong. Surely, she is greeted by her mother, remains under the spell for longer than 90 seconds, and all hell breaks loose, right? It's to the Philippou brothers' credit that it finds a narratively satisfying way to tie Mia's lingering grief into the story without taking the obvious route — even as it wastes no time putting her under a spell that turns awry as soon as the exposition has finished being delivered. Having worked on short-form YouTube videos for the entirety of their career to date, they are naturally economical storytellers, wasting no time putting the easily digestible lore into practice as soon as it's established. The rules are simple to grasp, which is central to why their side effects are so deeply horrifying to ponder at length.
Deals with grief — but it's not about grief
It should be highlighted that, despite a central character observing the anniversary of a deeply personal tragedy — and, of course, the specter of death looming large over the entire narrative — "Talk to Me" never becomes a simplistic exploration of grief like so many other recent films within the genre. Yes, the ghost of Mia's mother ends up factoring into the story, but it never fully grapples with the subject, either head-on or allegorically; perhaps the film's one flaw is that the director siblings don't linger on anything too long if it doesn't advance their plot forward. They're good at digging deeper under the skin of their characters in a way that doesn't hesitate to keep the narrative moving, but any weighty thematic content brought up is only afforded a surface-level exploration. Luckily, this doesn't matter too much when the side effects of the central conceit are so unnerving to see unfold, and the film's second half increasingly warps the mental states of its characters. Nobody would describe it as a horror-comedy in the same vein, but not since Sam Raimi's "Evil Dead" trilogy have the spirits of the deceased had so much fun messing with the humans that have fallen into their trap.
It moves toward one of the most satisfying horror endings I've seen in a while, the neat narrative bow it wraps itself in so well-constructed it offers a brief reprieve from the sheer bleakness of it all. And yet, with this being said, "Talk to Me" isn't the unrelentingly miserable experience much of its marketing has painted it to be. The brothers' innate sense of humor frequently shines through in the screenplay, be it through the childish interactions of its teen characters, or a standout sequence in which mother Sue (Miranda Otto, the Matriarch-in-Chief of Australian cinema) tries and fails to get her children Jade (Alexandra Jensen) and Riley (Joe Bird) to confess that they're having a party when she leaves the house. Things may become suitably unsparing moments later — one of these characters becomes possessed in a manner that turns graphically violent — but the overarching experience of watching "Talk to Me" ultimately isn't. The film leads you to many dark places, but the directors are always reassuringly holding your hand through even the most extreme of these moments; there's a clear heart to it, not just unrelenting otherworldly nihilism.
"Talk to Me" is a punchy directorial debut from the Philippou brothers; deeply unsettling, ultimately devastating, but not without humor and heart. I'm excited to see what they do next.
"Talk to Me" premieres in theaters on July 28.
This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the movie being reviewed here wouldn't exist.