BRING HER BACK. Grief, Despair, and Horror [REVIEW]

From aspiring YouTube creators to stars of the new wave of horror – that’s the journey brothers Michael and Danny Philippou have made in just a few years. Their debut Talk to Me unexpectedly stormed into cinemas and the box office, becoming one of the most profitable releases from studio A24. This spectacular debut propelled the Australians – previously known more for their vlogs and short online content – into the same league as names like Ari Aster, Robert Eggers, or Oz Perkins, positioning them at the forefront of ambitious horror cinema. Although the success of Talk to Me quickly led to the announcement of a sequel, before that takes shape, the Philippou brothers return with Bring Her Back, a film that challenges them to meet the high expectations set by their breakout debut.

Much like Talk to Me, Bring Her Back centers on siblings at a crossroads. After their father’s death, Andy and Piper are placed in a foster home – temporarily together, as the older brother is conditionally allowed to live under the same roof as his blind half-sister, in defiance of adoption procedures.

Their new guardian is Laura, a longtime adoption worker who recently lost her own – also blind – daughter under tragic circumstances. In addition to Andy and Piper, she also takes care of Ollie, her mute nephew. While Laura seems perfectly kind and nurturing, Ollie’s behavior is deeply disturbing – from his sinister staring into space, to his unnerving appetite, and even acts of aggression toward the family cat. Step by step, Andy – grappling with the trauma of his relationship with his late father, the fear of being separated from his sister, and a new, unfamiliar environment – begins to uncover something dark hidden within Laura’s home, and unsettling motives behind her seemingly warm smile.

Unlike Talk to Me, where the cards were revealed fairly quickly and the narrative leaned more into a demonic game of tag or hide and seek than unraveling dark mysteries, Bring Her Back unfolds at a much slower pace. The Philippou brothers build their story more deliberately this time, with a steady thickening of atmosphere and a restrained use of horror elements. Bring Her Back could even be described more as contemplative psychological cinema than traditional horror – though the horror elements are still ever-present and often very intense. This Australian-American co-production features graphic violence, but it serves to enhance the brooding, suffocating atmosphere of grief rather than dominate the film.

Its core focus lies in the exploration of the characters’ complex emotional states.

At its heart, Bring Her Back is a piercing story about grief, despair, and the desperate clinging to hope for reversing the irreversible. The plot, centering on Laura – played masterfully by Sally Hawkins – uses its horror framework to depict the grieving process. The occult game involving Laura, Andy, Piper, and Ollie is, in essence, a metaphorical extension of the raw despair felt by anyone who has lost a loved one. In this sense, after the more entertainment-driven Talk to Me, Bring Her Back feels like a surprisingly mature and psychologically ambitious horror film. It evokes Hereditary by Ari Aster – both in its somber tone and in its thematic orientation. Both films delve into the shadows of personal grief, weaving them into an occult backdrop. Here, horror serves the emotional story – not the other way around.

The slow descent into a mix of grief and madness works brilliantly, thanks largely to excellent direction. The Philippou brothers clearly have an eye and a feel for composition, which is evident immediately in Bring Her Back. The film is at times dazzling in its staging, yet it avoids empty stylistic flourishes. Danny and Michael Philippou structure everything around meaningful foundations, allowing genre-specific elements to align organically with the psychological layer, creating a gripping and deeply affecting whole. In this way, Bring Her Back stands as a model for the new wave of horror – as concerned with genre satisfaction as with conveying deeper, universal themes.

That said, Bring Her Back isn’t a flawless film. Its Achilles’ heel lies in the screenplay, written by Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman (as with their debut). The weaknesses aren’t major, but they are noticeable – the introduction of the occult elements feels a bit clunky and outpaces the rhythm of the narrative (in other words, the audience starts connecting dots too early, while the characters are still in the dark), and the climax underwhelms. The final act wraps up a bit too quickly and simply; it lacks one or two narrative twists that could have made the resolution more compelling. Instead, it ends somewhat abruptly and without much invention. While the film doesn’t drag and holds together well as a story, there’s a sense that once again, the narrative ingenuity doesn’t quite match the strength of the directorial vision.

What we get is a solid, but slightly unoriginal and mechanically told story wrapped in an outstanding formal package. These are minor imperfections, but they ultimately prevent Bring Her Back from fully realizing its masterpiece potential.

If this second film was meant to test the Philippou brothers’ abilities, then Bring Her Back passes with flying colors. They prove not only that they have more than one good idea and know how to market it, but also that they can direct with skill on par with the industry’s best. Bring Her Back also marks a clear step forward in using horror to tell meaningful stories. This is no longer just about delivering scares through a few clever tricks, but rather a fully realized narrative where horror and drama walk hand in hand. Let’s hope the Australians continue on this trajectory, because while Bring Her Back may not quite be a masterpiece, it’s a top-tier entry in the modern horror genre – and that masterpiece feels just around the corner.