Bring Her Back

Rating 5/10

I’m torn about what rating to give Bring Her Back. On the one hand, it’s a horror movie that appropriately elicits dread in a profound and artistically crafted way. However, the experience is so unrelentingly grim and emotionally grueling that it crosses the line from entertainment into something more icky. This ordeal is thoroughly unpleasant to sit through.

Seventeen-year-old Andy (Billy Barratt) and his younger, legally blind half-sister Piper (Sora Wong) are thrust into the Australian foster care system following the sudden death of their father (Stephen Phillips). Andy is just months away from turning 18, which would allow him to become Piper’s guardian. He clings to the hope that they will be reunited when that moment arrives. Until then, they are placed under the care of Laura (Sally Hawkins). The former counselor is still mourning the loss of her own daughter (Mischa Heywood), who drowned in a tragic accident. At Laura’s isolated home, the siblings meet Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), a mute and emotionally disturbed boy whose behavior quickly raises red flags. As the days pass, Andy grows increasingly suspicious of Laura—especially after she shows favoritism toward Piper and exhibits erratic, even manipulative behavior. The situation reaches a breaking point when Andy discovers Laura’s involvement in dark rituals that have horrifying consequences.

Bring Her Back is an endurance test for those willing to confront an unrelentingly grim story. Directors Danny and Michael Philippou have created a mood steeped in anxiety. Unlike their debut feature, Talk to Me (2022), which balanced terror with playful energy, this picture leans solely into despair. And while that commitment is admirable, it becomes impossible to endure. The focus on children in peril intensifies the discomfort, especially since the three child characters are subjected to prolonged terror and suffering. Laura, in her grief-stricken madness, puts them through hell. Among them, poor Oliver suffers the most—his silent distress becoming more and more harrowing. In one alarming sequence, Andy is slicing a cantaloupe and stupidly leaves a large kitchen knife unattended near Oliver. It’s clear to everyone in the audience that this is reckless. What follows borders on outright sadism, pushing the envelope of what even seasoned horror fans may be willing to accept.

Sally Hawkins has never been given an opportunity like this. While she’s portrayed characters with mental instability before—like the quirky schoolteacher in Happy-Go-Lucky or the quietly longing custodian in The Shape of Water—her work here dives into something much darker. Hawkins totally commits to a role that forces the actress into monster territory. There’s one scene in which she harms Piper that is, no exaggeration, one of the most unexpected actions I’ve ever seen depicted on film. The character is so cruel that it left me reevaluating whether Hawkins herself might possess a shadowy side. That’s how deeply she disappears into this performance.

So, is Bring Her Back an effective movie? Absolutely. The setup is brilliant, the atmosphere is nerve-wracking, and the acting is pitch-perfect across the board—especially from Hawkins, who may deliver the achievement of her career. But is it enjoyable? Not at all. Its harshest scenes are disconnected from any deeper narrative need. The screenplay introduces a supernatural element that is never fully explained—it’s merely hinted at simply to justify these bursts of extreme gore. These over-the-top displays are cheap shock tactics rather than necessary plot devices. And while the greatest cinematic portrayals of a waking nightmare usually offer a moment of reprieve, this account offers no such mercy. The psychological tension builds without ever allowing the audience a chance to breathe.

Bring Her Back is an intense, unsettling psychological drama. I loved that aspect. I love suspense. But there are limits to what I can tolerate in depictions of violence, particularly when it involves children. There are protracted sequences that culminate in mutilation, which are so disturbing it left me queasy. I understand that movies are fiction and can be a form of art, but this feels exploitative—designed to shock rather than serve the story. After the credits rolled, I needed a minute to collect myself and think about why I endured this experience.

05-19-25