I’m not entirely sure how to begin this review.
Typically, I’d open with a clever hook, a witty observation, or a bold declaration. But as I sit here, hours after the credits rolled on Danny and Michael Philippou’s Bring Her Back, my hands still feel unsteady on the keyboard. My thoughts are scattered. There’s a quiet, heavy stillness in my home that wasn’t here before I left for the theater.
When the film ended, I didn’t linger to discuss it with friends or to let the score wash over me. I stood up, almost involuntarily, and walked out as quickly as I could. I felt a primal need to put physical distance between myself and the screen, as if the images and feelings it projected might somehow follow me out of the auditorium. The drive home was a blur of complete, oppressive silence. The radio was off. The world outside my car seemed muted. Even then, I nearly missed the turn to my own street, my mind still trapped in the labyrinthine darkness of the film, its tendrils wrapped so tightly around my psyche that basic navigation felt like a monumental task.
This isn’t hyperbole. This isn’t me, the seasoned horror fan, trying to sell you on the “scariest movie ever.” A24, the studio behind this nightmare, has a well-earned reputation for marketing their films with that exact tagline, often to the point of parody. I wouldn’t call Bring Her Back the “scariest” movie in the conventional sense. It’s something far more insidious. It got to me. It burrowed under my skin in a way that two full episodes of Taskmaster—my usual comedic palate cleanser—could not shake once I was safely home.
So let this be my first, and most important, piece of advice: Bring Her Back is a film that demands to be taken seriously. It is a profoundly unnerving, masterfully crafted piece of psychological art that will leave you shattered. The Philippou brothers, who burst onto the scene with the explosive and brilliant Talk to Me in 2023, have not simply made a follow-up. They have descended into a deeper, more patient, and altogether more terrifying circle of hell. And they’ve decided to drag you down with them.
The Unspoken Contract of A24 Horror
Before we venture further into the specifics of this particular abyss, it’s worth acknowledging the ground on which it’s built. A24 has carved out its own distinct subgenre within horror. When you see that iconic, minimalist logo, you enter into an unspoken contract with the filmmakers. You know you’re not signing up for cheap jump scares, predictable slashers, or a rollercoaster ride that leaves you laughing with adrenaline-fueled relief.
You are signing up for what is often termed “elevated horror,” a label some find pretentious, but which accurately describes a focus on atmospheric dread, complex psychological themes, and character-driven tragedy. Films like Hereditary, Midsommar, The Witch, and The Lighthouse aren’t just trying to make you jump; they’re trying to dismantle you emotionally. They explore the horror of grief, the terror of isolation, the decay of the family unit, and the fragility of the human mind.
Bring Her Back is the new valedictorian of this harrowing school of thought. It takes the thematic weight of its predecessors and combines it with the Philippous’ uniquely visceral and unflinching style. It is, in many ways, the ultimate fulfillment of the A24 horror promise: a film that is as artistically beautiful as it is spiritually ugly. It’s not a movie you simply watch; it’s an ordeal you survive.
The Setup: A Deceptively Quiet Tragedy
The beauty of the film’s devastating power lies in its quiet, almost mundane setup. In an effort to preserve the slow, agonizing reveal that is central to the experience, I will only give you the barest of bones.
We meet Andy (Billy Barrett) and his younger sister, Piper (Sora Wong). They are foster siblings, bound by a shared history of trauma and a fierce, protective loyalty. They are sent to a new placement, a secluded home in the countryside, to live with their new foster mother, Laura (an unbelievable Sally Hawkins).
The house itself breathes a quiet sorrow. We learn that Laura is a grieving mother. Her own daughter, Kathy, tragically passed away. Like Piper, Kathy was blind. Laura’s grief is a palpable entity in the home, hanging in the air like a thick, suffocating dust. She is also the caretaker of another child, Oliver (Jonah Ren Phillips), a young, mute boy whose presence is an immediate and unsettling enigma.
Andy and Piper, desperate for a sliver of stability, try to settle in. But from the moment they cross the threshold, a sense of profound wrongness begins to creep in from the edges of the frame. The silence in the house is too deep. The shadows seem to linger a little too long. Laura’s maternal warmth feels… off, brittle, like a mask threatening to crack. The siblings soon realize that the grief saturating their new home is not dormant. It’s active. It’s hungry. And they are its new focus.
A Masterclass in Dread: Deconstructing the Horror
The Philippou brothers don’t direct horror scenes; they orchestrate a symphony of dread, and Bring Her Back is their magnum opus. Understanding how it achieves its terrifying effect is key to appreciating its brutal genius.
The Jaws Principle: No Jump Scares, Just the Clicking Reel
I found my mind retreating to a comfort place while trying to process this film: Jaws. Specifically, the iconic scene where Quint watches the fishing reel, a barrel attached to the line. Click. Click. Click. The agonizing, patient sound of impending doom. The shark isn’t on screen, but the tension is unbearable. You’re waiting for the line to go taut, for the reel to scream as the monster runs with the bait.
Bring Her Back is two hours of that clicking reel. Except you are the bait. The film hooks you early with its compelling characters and intriguing mystery, and then the line goes out. And out. And out. The water just gets deeper and blacker, with no bottom in sight. There are no sudden bangs or startling ghosts popping out of closets. The horror is in the waiting, the watching, the slow, dawning realization of the true nature of the situation the characters are in. It’s a masterclass in sustained tension that frays your nerves one by one until they snap.
The Unholy Trinity: Body, Mind, and Soul
This film is an all-out assault on every level. It doesn’t just pick one flavor of horror; it cranks every dial to eleven.
- Psychological Horror: The film weaponizes ambiguity and grief. Is what’s happening supernatural, or is it the product of a shattered mind? The characters, particularly Andy, are subjected to a slow-burning gaslighting that makes them (and the audience) question their own sanity. The emotional manipulation is so precise and cruel that it feels like a violation.
- Emotional Horror: This is where the film truly excels and where it will hurt the most. It plumbs the absolute depths of grief, loss, and the desperate, terrifying things people will do to undo them. It’s the horror of a parent’s love curdling into something monstrous, of sibling bonds being tested to their breaking point. This isn’t the funhouse fear of a monster; it’s the real-world terror of human tragedy twisted into an unrecognizable shape.
- Body Horror: While not overtly gory in a conventional sense, the film’s use of body horror is profoundly disturbing. It’s less about blood and guts and more about the uncanny and the unnatural. The way characters move, the subtle shifts in their physical presence, the things we almost see—it all contributes to a sense of biological wrongness that will crawl right into your bones.
The “Kids in Peril” Tightrope
Here, we must address the film’s most challenging and potentially divisive element. Bring Her Back features children—characters under the age of 18—in situations of extreme and sustained peril. This is a razor-thin line to walk in horror. Handled poorly, it can feel cheap, exploitative, and tasteless. Handled correctly, it can be the most effective and harrowing tool in a filmmaker’s arsenal.
The Philippous, to their immense credit, fall firmly into the latter camp. They never treat the danger the children face as a gimmick. Every threat, every moment of fear, is treated with the utmost seriousness and consequence. There is no plot armor here. The horror feels real because it is happening to the most vulnerable among us. This decision makes the film infinitely more disturbing, but it also gives it a profound moral and emotional weight. It does not exploit their suffering; it forces you to confront it.
That said, this is a significant flag. If you are a viewer who is, understandably, sensitive to seeing children in horrific situations, this might not be the movie for you. It is relentless, and it does not offer easy comfort.
Tour-de-Force Performances: The Pillars Holding Up the Hellscape
A film this emotionally demanding lives or dies by its cast. The ensemble in Bring Her Back doesn’t just rise to the occasion; they deliver some of the most searing and unforgettable performances of the year.
Sally Hawkins as Laura: Let me be clear. I do not invoke the name of Toni Collette in Hereditary lightly. It is, for me, the high-water mark for a horror performance in the 21st century. But Sally Hawkins has delivered a Toni-esque performance here. The sheer range she is required to display is staggering. In a single scene, she can flicker between suffocating maternal love, bottomless grief, chilling detachment, and something utterly unholy. She is both a victim to be pitied and a force to be feared. It is a complex, raw, and terrifying portrayal that anchors the entire film’s emotional horror. I can almost guarantee that come awards season, I will be sitting right here, complaining into a microphone about how the major awards bodies have once again ignored a genre-defining performance from an actress in a horror film. Sally Hawkins is that good.
Billy Barrett as Andy: As the older sibling and our primary point-of-view character, Billy Barrett carries the weight of the world on his young shoulders. His performance is a study in suppressed terror and burgeoning responsibility. You see the history of his life etched onto his face—the exhaustion of being the protector, the desperation for a normal life, and the dawning horror as he realizes that this is the furthest thing from it. It’s a mature, grounded, and deeply empathetic performance. (And as a side note, it’s a relief to see him in a role this substantive after his brief appearance as a young Dimitri Smerdyakov in the otherwise forgettable Kraven the Hunter).
Sora Wong as Piper: In her feature film debut, Sora Wong is a revelation. The filmmakers made the crucial decision to seek authenticity, casting a partially blind actress to play the blind character of Piper. This is not a token choice; it is fundamental to the film’s success. Wong brings a quiet strength and intelligence to the role that makes you care for Piper instantly and intensely. The film’s tension is amplified tenfold because we are so invested in her safety. Wong ensures that Piper is never just a victim or a plot device; she is the film’s fragile, beating heart.
Jonah Ren Phillips as Oliver: Phillips will likely receive less recognition because his role as the mute boy Oliver is largely without dialogue, but the film simply does not work without him. He is the key to so much of the movie’s most potent horror. He embodies something wholly other, an unnerving stillness that stands in stark contrast to the emotional chaos around him. The most disturbing images that keep flashing through my brain, the moments that make me physically recoil even now, almost all involve him. It’s a haunting, masterful performance of pure physicality and presence.
The Philippou Brothers: Architects of Modern Nightmares
After watching Bring Her Back, I find myself holding two conflicting opinions about Danny and Michael Philippou. I admire them immensely as filmmakers, and I am deeply, deeply worried about them as human beings. I can’t fathom what it must take to live inside a story this bleak for the months and years it takes to bring it to the screen. I barely had the nerve to just watch it.
With Talk to Me and now this, they have firmly established themselves as two of the most vital and exciting voices in modern horror. But where Talk to Me was a shot of adrenaline—a kinetic, shocking, and fast-paced cautionary tale—Bring Her Back is a slow-acting poison. It’s more patient, more psychological, and ultimately, more viscerally upsetting. I’ve watched Talk to Me a couple of times since its release, and I enjoy the craft and the ride every time. I cannot imagine voluntarily putting myself through the experience of Bring Her Back more than once or twice more in my entire life. That doesn’t make it a worse film; it makes it a harder one.
I cannot wait to see what they do next. But I sincerely hope they take a few years off before they make it. Frankly, I need the recovery time.
The Verdict: Know What You’re Signing Up For
Is Bring Her Back a perfect movie? No. Like many films of its ilk, it stumbles slightly in its final act as it shifts from a purely atmospheric and tonal experience to one that feels obligated to cement some of its plot points and “rules.” This doesn’t derail the film, but it does mean certain late-game moments don’t land with the same gut-punching impact as the slow, agonizing build-up.
This is also, without question, a film that will be aggressively rejected by a large portion of the audience. It will be too slow for some, too intensely bleak for others, and both for many. I can already feel the C- or D CinemaScore coming, a grade often given by general audiences to films that refuse to hold your hand or tell you that everything is going to be okay. Bring Her Back has no interest in making you feel okay. It has a singular, grim determination to, for lack of a better phrase, bum you out. Some people will actively resent this film for how it makes them feel.
But art is supposed to evoke an emotional response. And this film did exactly what it was designed to do to me. It terrified me in that deep, pit-of-your-stomach way that few films ever have. It left me feeling hollowed out, disturbed, but also in complete awe of its craftsmanship.
I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to talk you out of seeing this movie. But you absolutely need to know what you’re getting into. This is hardcore horror, even for A24. If you are the kind of viewer who seeks out challenging, confrontational, and deeply psychological cinema—if films like Hereditary or The Killing of a Sacred Deer are your sweet spot—then I implore you to see it. It is an essential, unforgettable experience.
If, however, you prefer your horror to be a fun escape, or if the themes I’ve flagged here are personal triggers, then I strongly advise you to stay away. This is not the one to take a chance on.
For me, Bring Her Back is a staggering achievement. It’s a film I’m going to be thinking about, and recovering from, for a very, very long time. Even, and perhaps especially, when I don’t want to be.
Final Verdict: It’s Good (A masterpiece of dread, but one that comes with a heavy price.)