THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR: Effective But Not Without Flaws

Living in Mumbai, Maria is still unable to recover from the tragic death of her son Oliver, who was killed in a car accident. Her husband has managed to pull himself together, but he is helpless in the face of his wife’s ongoing depression. When Maria attempts to take her own life, their Indian servant Piki decides to intervene. She tells her about a place where the boundary between the living and the dead is extraordinarily thin, and instructs Maria on how she can say goodbye to Oliver. The Other Side of the Door.

She emphasizes, however, that under no circumstances should she open the door separating the mother from her child during the conversation. As one might easily guess, the protagonist breaks this rule, thereby bringing an evil spirit upon herself and her family, as well as an even worse Myrta, the guardian of the afterlife.

The pain of losing a child is, forgive the expression, a fertile subject for horror filmmakers, as it automatically generates emotions in the viewer worse than the most terrifying specters that can be thrown at us. It is therefore hardly surprising that The Other Side of the Door starts from a high point, a nightmare located somewhere at the back of every parent’s mind. The beginning of the film is thus governed by a sense of mourning and resignation, which is not at all undermined by the fact that India is a picturesque corner of the world, something cinematographer Maxime Alexandre brings out beautifully.

Warm colors and an abundance of light slightly soften the tragedy, while at the same time offering hope for change. That change does come, of course, though instead of getting better, things only get worse. First, Oliver’s younger sister discovers that her brother’s spirit is present in the house, resulting in shared playtime and piano playing. Later, little Lucy will no longer be laughing when the not particularly friendly apparition begins to frighten and bite the girl.

Before that happens, all the houseplants wither, animals die (naturally with the exception of the wise dog, who sees more than his owners do – the filmmakers have reserved a special attraction for him), and bearded shamans begin to haunt Maria and her family. British director and co-screenwriter Johannes Roberts plows exceptionally clumsily through motifs well known to horror fans, omitting none of them before the final confrontation with supernatural forces.

He makes no use whatsoever of the Indian setting, and the moment when Maria realizes that her son has, in a sense, returned home, instead of pushing the story into more interesting areas of parental responsibility, runs aground on the shallows of horror convention. And that is when it becomes boring.

Narratively, we are dealing with a typical haunted-house scarefest – if you have seen one, you have seen them all. I suspect that Roberts really might have seen them all, and still failed to propose anything new to breathe life into the formula. On the level of the screenplay, this is not a bad film, but a completely unnecessary one. Fortunately, on a directorial level The Other Side of the Door strikes the right notes, skillfully awakening fear and building tension, proposing – instead of sudden attacks of loud music or figures jumping out of the frame – a waiting game.

Roberts delights in constructing scenes in which what we do not see, what lurks somewhere in the darkness, does not reveal itself immediately, but waits. Sometimes it waits for the character to turn around, or for a lightning flash to appear in the background, or for some sound cue. At times the director allows the apparition to be shown, but more often he cuts such a scene short or plays it out without a horror punchline.

The fear then continues, and we, the unfortunate viewers, suffer for another moment or two. This is quite an effective approach, allowing a film built on such well-worn schemes as this one to be remembered more clearly.

Sarah Wayne Callies is also surprisingly successful in the role of Maria, especially in the opening sections, when her character is still unable to recover from the tragedy. Usually a bland and boring actress, here she convincingly conveys her character’s emotional state, allowing viewers to believe in her imprudent act. It is a shame that later Callies’s effort is squandered on uninteresting moments, when Maria exists only to be frightened. Jeremy Sisto fares worse, completely without a role, as the overworked husband who realizes a bit too late that bad things are happening in his house.

It is worth mentioning, however, that Suchitra Pillai-Malik, who plays the servant Piki, in some scenes strikingly resembles an older, Indian version of the horror queen from half a century ago, Barbara Steele. Associations like this make me believe that the filmmakers really did want us to notice the similarity.

In the finale, we learn nothing interesting about dealing with evil spirits summoned with the help of Hindu beliefs, nor do we receive answers to questions concerning parental love that not even death can defeat. It all ends banally and familiarly. The end credits, however, confirm that someone clear-headed was responsible for the overall presentation.

The film’s producer is Alexandre Aja, a French director with the excellent High Tension and the successful remake of The Hills Have Eyes to his credit.

The aforementioned cinematographer Alexandre and editor Baxter are his regular collaborators, while the music is the work of Joseph Bishara, known for his scores for James Wan’s horror films (Insidious, The Conjuring). Regardless of how badly Roberts stumbled while writing the screenplay, his film could not have looked any better.