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Cinema, horror, Reviews

Cinema Review: Bring Her Back (2025) – a powerfully disturbing study of grief, obsession and matriarchal mania!

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Cinema Review: Bring Her Back (2025)

Directed by Danny and Michael Philippou

Written by Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman

Produced by Samantha Jennings, Kristina Ceyton

Cast: Billy Barratt, Sora Wong, Jonah Wren Phillips, Sally Hawkins, Sally-Anne Upton, etc.

Cinematography by Aaron McLisky

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***

It’s become something of a cliché to lament the state of theatrical cinema: superhero fatigue, endless sequels, spin-offs and reboots, streaming overflow. Original stories—particularly in multiplexes—feel increasingly rare. Yet one genre has bucked the trend and, against all industry logic, placed original visions front and centre: horror. In an era of IP dominance, horror’s persistence as the great innovator is growing. It thrives on shadows, but in today’s cinema landscape, it’s also the brightest light.

Across the last few years, titles like Barbarian (2022), Pearl (2022), Skinamarink (2022), Nope (2022), Talk to Me (2023), Infinity Pool (2023), When Evil Lurks (2023), Late Night With the Devil (2023), Totally Killer (2023), Heretic (2024), Longlegs (2024), Sinners (2025), and the soon-to-be-reviewed, Weapons (2025) have proved again and again that audiences crave fresh nightmares. Even 28 Years Later (2025), though technically part of an ongoing series, represents a rare franchise event grounded less in brand synergy than in directorial reinvention and raw cultural appetite.

Unlike superhero spectacles or sci-fi epics, horror thrives on modest budgets and audacious ideas. A film like Skinamarink (2022), shot for a reported $15,000, can turn experimental textures into a viral theatrical moment. Personally, I found this film difficult to digest, however, the more commercial, Talk to Me (2023), made for $4.5 million, earned nearly twenty times that worldwide. These aren’t just hits; they’re validations of originality as a business model.

Horror is also a proving ground where young or unexpected filmmakers leap into the cultural spotlight. Zach Cregger (Barbarian (2022) twisted narrative structure into something memorable. The Philippou brothers Talk to Me (2023) translated YouTube viral adrenaline into terrifying cinematic language. But, what of their latest film, Bring Her Back (2025)? Well, for me they have surpassed their debut feature not only in genuinely sickening moments of dread, but also in terms of powerfully emotional horror scenes.

The narrative of Bring Her Back (2025) begins as it means to go on with a rapidly series of unsettling scenes. After discovering their father dead in the shower, 17-year-old Andy (Billy Barratt) and his partially sighted step-sister Piper (Sora Wong) are placed in the care of Laura (Sally Hawkins). Laura is an eccentric former counselor living on the outskirts of town and suffered the loss of her teenage daughter to drowning. In her home, the siblings encounter Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), a mute foster boy who seems terrified of the house’s locked outhouse. Andy eventually realizes Laura’s obsessive behaviour is far more threatening than he could imagine and they are all in danger.

Like Toni Collette in Hereditary (2018) and Lupita Nyong’o in Us (2019), Sally Hawkins delivers a powerfully intense performance that pushes horror into the realm of high drama. She carries the film with raw, nerve-shredding vulnerability, shifting from fragile grief to volcanic fury with startling precision. Every gesture—whether a whispered plea or a full-bodied breakdown—feels lived-in and emotionally scalding, grounding the supernatural terror in something painfully human. Also, Billy Barratt and newcomer Sora Wong offer excellent support as the in-peril ‘Hansel and Gretel’ siblings. Barratt is especially good carrying the audience’s fearful perspective.

The Philippou brothers draw on a potent brew of horror traditions—satanic ritual, grief, abduction, parental abandonment, and matriarchal hysteria—to craft Bring Her Back, a haunting and gut-wrenching descent into obsession. The film thrives on its willingness to plunge into emotional extremity, channeling raw pain into sequences of near-operatic dread. Several knife-in-the-teeth jolts of terror punctuate the story, as everyday necessities such as water, food and parental love are twisted into deathly hazards.

While the script occasionally wavers and certain narrative and backstory elements required sharpening, the thematic and emotional core remains undeniable. At its best, Bring Her Back (2025) isn’t just another exercise in occult horror—it’s a powerful study of grieving obsession, of the lengths people will go to fill a void that cannot be healed. The result is a film that lingers, not only for its shocks but for the raw ache that underpins them.

Mark: 9 out of 11

Cinema, horror, New Releases, Reviews

Cinema Review: Nosferatu (2024) – At the Intersection of Horror and Eroticism!

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Cinema Review: Nosferatu (2024)

Directed by Robert Eggers

Screenplay by Robert Eggers

Based on Nosferatu by Henrik Galeen and Dracula by Bram Stoker

Produced by Jeff Robinov, John Graham, Chris Columbus, Eleanor Columbus, Robert Eggers, etc.

Main Cast: Bill Skarsgård, Nicholas Hoult, Lily-Rose Depp, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Emma Corrin, Willem Dafoe, Simon McBurney, etc.

Cinematography by Jarin Blaschke

Music by Robin Carolan

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***

Firstly, Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror, the 1922 silent German Expressionist vampire film directed by F. W. Murnau remains one of the greatest and most iconic horror films of all time. It is arguably the greatest adaptation of Bram Stoker’s, seminal gothic classic, Dracula, too. Of which there have been many. So, who would be brave enough to attempt to master another version of this often-told monstrous tale. Step forward the acclaimed and relatively young American auteur, Robert Eggers.

Robert Eggers has built a reputation for crafting films that blend mythical and fantastical elements with folk horror and psychological thriller sensibilities. His works often transport audiences to meticulously recreated period settings, which serve as the foundation for his exploration of human fears, desires, and the supernatural. His debut feature film. The Witch (2015) exemplified folk horror rooted in Puritanical fears of the supernatural. Set in 1630s New England, it drew heavily from folklore, historical accounts, and period-authentic dialogue. The film explored themes of isolation, religious paranoia, and the breakdown of a family due to their belief in the presence of witches.

Similarly, The Lighthouse (2019), a psychological thriller merged maritime folklore with hallucinatory horror. Set in the late 19th century, the film delved into isolation-induced madness as two lighthouse keepers grappled with mythological themes such as mermaids, sea gods, and Promethean punishment. Moreover, as with his short films Hansel and Gretel (2007) and The Tell-Tale Heart (2008) he is drawn towards established texts, with the bruising, battering ram of The Northman (2022) covering the original myth on which Hamlet was based. Eggers vision immersed the viewer in violence, Viking culture, shamanic ritual and mysticism. Unsurprising therefore, he has now delivered the German Expressionist classic, Nosferatu (2024) with his signature period aesthetic and focus on the macabre.

With a stellar cast, production design and incredibly stylish vision, Eggers has produced a praiseworthy example of fantastical cinema. As usual there appears to be meticulous historical research, including accurate costumes, set design, and period-specific dialogue. This attention to detail in Nosferatu (2024) grounds the supernatural elements in a believable world, enhancing their impact. Furthermore, Eggers creates a sense of dread through his use of sound design, stark cinematography, and claustrophobic settings. His restrained pacing allows for the gradual unraveling of characters’ psyches, making the supernatural elements more impactful.

Yet, while steeped in folklore, Nosferatu (2024) centres on human struggles—family disintegration, fate, guilt, madness, lust and sex. Indeed, Nicholas Hoult’s Thomas Hutter (née Harker) does not stand a chance. From the opening scene his sensual wife, Ellen, is inextricably linked via a lustful fever dream to a mysterious figure, who, if you couldn’t guess, is Count Orlok (an unrecognizable Bill Skarsgård). It is Ellen’s orgasmic connection across oceans of time which drives Orlok to lure Thomas away and commit blood-draining murder as he creeps cross-country and sails the seas from Transylvania to Germany. Ellen’s surreal and orgiastic desire unfortunately brings the plague and causes the death of extraneous supporting characters portrayed by the likes Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Emma Corrin. A note to say Willem Dafoe is as usual a joy as the ‘Van Helsing’ substitute.

Nosferatu (2024) is undeniably a sumptuous adaptation, brimming with signature attention to period detail, atmospheric dread, and a striking visual palette. However, for those seeking a viscerally terrifying Dracula film, the movie might fall short, leaning heavily into the realm of erotic horror and psychological tension rather than outright scares. While the stunning cinematography, the film’s shadow-drenched landscapes, intricate set design, and haunting score evoke the satanic allure of the original silent film this focus, however, shifts the film away from raw horror and toward a more introspective exploration of vulnerability and eroticism. Ultimately, the film’s reinterpretation of Count Orlok and its restrained approach to gore might alienate viewers expecting a more terrifying vampire film. This left me impressed but more disturbed by the overlong runtime than by the nightmarish allure of the bloodthirsty undead.

Mark: 8 out of 11