Talk to Me

Directors: Danny Philippou and Michael Philippou  
Starring: Sophie Wilde, Alexandra Jensen, Joe Bird, Otis Dhanji, Miranda Otto, Zoe Terakes, Chris Alosio, Marcus Johnson, Alexandria Steffensen, Ari McCarthy, Sunny Johnson
Running Time: 95 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)    

A24's supernatural horror thriller Talk to Me puts a fresh spin on a sub-genre that's had startlingly few innovations over the years. Demonic or spiritual possession is always difficult terrain to navigate, but in their debut feature, Australian sibling filmmaking duo Danny and Michael Philippou sidestep typical tropes to craft a suspenseful, character driven commentary on grief and excess. By reframing an idea employed by countless outings since The Exorcist, this manages to shine a new light on familiar developments by presenting its story in an entirely different context.

While it's probably a stretch to call the film scary by traditional standards, it still contains more exciting moments than most, largely adhering to its own unique rules and featuring characters that don't insult viewers' intelligence. Carried by two gripping performances that take unexpected detours by the midway point, many will sense what's coming, but that hardly diminishes just how viscerally it all plays out. 

17 year-old Mia (Sophie Wilde) is still grieving the overdose death of her mother Rhea (Alexandria Steffensen), having turned to best friend Jade (Alexandra Jensen) and Jade's younger brother Riley (Joe Bird) for support as her relationship with father Max (Marcus Johnson) crumbles. When Mia, Jade and Riley sneak out to a party being thrown by classmates Hayley (Zoe Terakes) and Joss (Chris Alosio), things take a strange turn with the reveal of a severed, embalmed hand that enables them to talk to the dead, granting permission for the spirit to possess them. Unfortunately, the catch is that this supernatural connection has to be broken within ninety seconds or they can be permanently inhabited by the spirit.

While everyone takes turns basking in the high, they have experiences that range from embarrassingly inappropriate to downright unsettling. Some participants like Jade's boyfriend Daniel (Otis Dhanji) endure especially rough outings, but they all want more, capturing the experiences on their phones for the world to see. That is until something truly terrifying happens to one of them, putting Mia in a position where she must carry the burden of this catastrophe and come face-to-face with her own trauma.

That these possessions fuel a drug-like addiction and an ensuing social media craze is the film's biggest hook, grounding the supernatural elements in real world tragedy and opening the floodgates for where the narrative can go. After initially establishing the depths of Mia's personal pain over the loss of her mother, we're treated to a montage that economically conveys all the euphoria and danger accompanying this creepy appendage. Once the stage is set and characters defined, it isn't long before the Philippous brothers pull the trigger with a violent sequence that alters how we view Mia from then on, establishing her as a fairly complicated and conflicted protagonist.

Sophie Wilde's job is deceptively hard since Mia's personal situation elicits sympathy and she's not solely responsible for the violent chaos about to engulf them. But even with more than enough blame to go around, it's her recklessly selfish decision that gets the ball rolling, which seems plausible given her fragile state. After a while, it's clear Mia's losing all grip on reality, clinging to this hand for answers she's not getting about her mom and a closure that can't possibly come. 

Joe Bird's portrayal of Riley is equally unnerving as the character becomes a physical manifestation of their worst case scenario when he's trapped in an unwinnable battle against forces beyond his or anyone else's control. He's only guilty of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, understandably a little too eager to fit in. Everyone fails him, especially Mia, whose friendship with Daniel only further confounds Jade, threatening the girls' friendship and lives.

The makeup team bolsters the disturbing transformations these characters undergo, complete with inexplicable facial contusions and blackened pupils. And there's a welcome use of practical effects in depicting the spirits, grounding some of the more over-the-top sequences in a recognizable reality that's filtered through the protagonist's inconsolable state. The two worlds eventually become indistinguishable as a party gimmick devolves into existential chaos, capped off with a fitting finale that twists the knife one last time, bringing everything full circle.