Bring Her Back (2025) is written and directed by Danny & Michael Philippou. It stars Billy Barratt, Sally Hawkins, Sora Wong, Jonah Wren Phillips, Mischa Heywood, Stephen Phillips, Sally Anne-Upton, and Kathryn Adams. The film follows Andy (Barratt) and his blind younger sister, Piper (Wong), as they begin to suspect that something sinister is happening with their new foster mother, Laura (Hawkins). This includes being oddly dismissive of her other foster child, Oliver (Phillips), whose odd, soulless behavior would typically make even the most careless of parents raise their eyebrows. She also begins to show signs of dishonesty, which slowly evolve from seemingly harmless white lies to ones that are so severe that they threaten to permanently separate Andy and Piper. What ensues is a game of cat and mouse, in which Andy and Laura each attempt to prove the other is a dangerous psychopath. With few resources and even less credibility, Andy realizes that saving Piper might mean losing himself in the process. 

The film’s premise has been explored countless times before. Beyond that, it consistently succeeds as one of the most original and terrifying recent entries in the “possession” subgenre—a genre I felt had run out of steam years ago. This begins with the strong central performances, which effectively convey the wide range of emotions this story demands. Billy Barrat not only holds his own but is impressive in the lead role. It’s a fantastic feat to display this kind of skill while playing a character that requires him to remain likable while being deeply flawed in ways that aren’t particularly endearing. It helps that the script takes the proper time to establish him as an admirable brother before revealing the worst aspects of his personality and past. In combination with Barratt’s palpably emotional performance, this exposition unexpectedly serves to strengthen the viewer’s opinion of Andy, drawing a clear line between those who hurt others due to their grief and those who use their grief as a justification to inflict harm.

As for the two younger cast members, Sora Wong nails all the sweet and innocent character beats her role requires. Other than the fact that she has to deal with the realities of being blind, there’s not a lot that’s particularly unique about the character. That being said, this debut performance proves she’s already a step ahead of her peers. The flashier, more easily commendable performance of the two is Jonah Wren Phillips as Andy & Piper’s mute, newly met foster brother, Oliver. Although silent, his disturbed, unwavering stares and bloodshot eyes are somehow loud, as if the tension of his general presence induces an internal wail from the deepest, darkest recesses of one’s mind. The often abstract nature of his behavior and intentions is typically something that bothers me, but it works in this case because a good portion of the horror relies on it. 

Like Andy, we have only limited insight into what’s going on and why, slowly piecing things together with each new revelation. This helps elevate the horror because it always feels like you’re on Andy’s playing field. In these kinds of horror movies, if the audience knows more than the protagonist, it can often make them feel safe, boasting that if they were in the same situation, they’d know exactly what to do. Bring Her Back intelligently reveals information almost exclusively from Andy’s POV, only breaking the rule when the script is forced into a situation where it needs to reveal something that wouldn’t make sense for him to ever learn about but is necessary information for the audience. 

This structure helps make each horrific moment or reveal feel visceral, even though, for the most part, they’re easy to see coming. The pacing of these reveals supports a satisfying escalation of the horror, rarely losing steam even when you’re certain it can’t possibly have anything else up its sleeve. The problem is specifically in the first act, which immediately makes it clear to the viewer that Laura is most certainly a psychopath. This eliminates a lot of early tension in terms of deciding which characters can be trusted, but it also doesn’t amplify tension in the way the directors seem to intend. I understand the idea that knowing she’s a threat makes every scene where she’s present a tad more intense, but the danger feels inherent. Most people seeing this film will generally understand the genre they’re getting themselves into, so it doesn’t feel necessary to prove that the characters are in danger; that’s implied simply by the genre. That being said, a lot of similar movies make the opposite (and worse) mistake of dragging out the “are they/aren’t they” dynamic far longer than it can capably support. Laura’s pretty much the only suspect, so playing with the audience probably wouldn’t have worked for too long anyway, but I’m sure that a good 10-15 minutes of making us think she’s a nice person would’ve felt a bit more natural. It would also have helped the audience feel sympathetic toward the character, bolstering the effect of an early scene intended to humanize her. Because of this, the emotionally charged ending doesn’t work as well as it could have. It all fits together well on both a surface and thematic level, but it falls short of creating a lasting emotional impact, which seems to be the intention. 

Thankfully, Sally Hawkins delivers a performance that transcends nearly every issue caused by the script, portraying a character so despicable, unpredictable, and emotionally unhinged that she easily works as one of the best horror villains in years. She emulates Toni Collette’s legendary performance in Hereditary (2018), taking common motherly anxieties to a breaking point and then pushing them even further. What sets this apart from Collette’s character is that she’s unequivocally the villain–nasty and evil all on her own, no demon possession required. I’ve seen the “crazy mom” trope countless times before, but Hawkins’ performance easily makes her a top-ten maniacal movie mom. 

The film’s tone is highly intense, forcing the viewer to hold their breath constantly. The thing is, it’s not just tense; it’s legitimately scary in a way that’s lingered in my mind for over 24 hours (and counting). It also pushes its gory images to extreme levels, achieving moments that made me close my eyes faster than most sequences in the Saw franchise. It truly feels like a new peak in terms of disturbing imagery, but unlike the Saw movies, it never feels frivolous. These moments are all carefully designed to chill us on multiple levels. The human brain often associates blood and gore with feelings of fear and disgust. Still, most humans can rise above such instinctual, animal thinking and realize that, in the context of fiction, gore is often used as a lazy way to generate quick fear. Instead, the Philippou brothers see it for what it is–a single item in the horror toolkit. The script never over-relies on any one way to approach scaring the viewer, which is yet another element that keeps things consistently unpredictable. This all culminates in a climax that’s only gotten better since I’ve had time to dwell on it. Although its intended “emotional gut punch” moment doesn’t entirely work, every other element is precisely what I was hoping for. Similar to their first film, Talk to Me (2022), the Philippou brothers demonstrate a knack for crafting truly bittersweet endings. Some of the worst moments you can think of play out to jaw-dropping effect, no matter how improbable they initially seem. The thing is, certain other subplots resolve in ways that are unexpectedly human and uplifting. I prefer my horror endings to be as bleak as possible because, more often than not, a happy outcome often feels forced; however, the approach in this film strikes a balance between the two. That’s maybe why I previously mentioned that I struggled to feel an emotional punch; they’re both strong, palpable emotions, but I think they sort of cancel each other out. It’s not a perfect ending, but it’s complex and gives the viewer a lot to consider. 

Overall, this is easily the best horror release of 2025 so far. However, it’s not for the faint of heart and follows in the footsteps of cinema’s bleakest films, including The Exorcist (1973) and Hereditary (2018). I won’t go so far as to say it’s better or even as good as those two, but the feelings it evokes are on a similar playing field. There are a handful of images that already haunt my dreams, but what has haunted me the most is that, upon further reflection, Laura is the only character who receives a kind of emotional catharsis. By the end, the characters who deserve good things are either dead or left in a situation that doesn’t exactly imply sunshine and rainbows for years to come. Even though it follows the typical structure of the villain getting their bloody comeuppance and at least one good character making it out alive, it still creates an inescapable feeling of dread that makes you wonder if happy endings ever truly exist in reality. It’s a real downer of a movie, and I CAN’T WAIT to watch it again. I guess that’s the nature of the genre sometimes, using words like “bleak, gross, unsettling, horrifying, etc.” to convey praise. It’s not for everyone simply because of its extreme nature, but if you think you can handle it, give it a shot. I was low on Talk to Me compared to most audiences, but this movie blew me away. I understood the hype, but I was skeptical. Please accept my registration to join the fandom; these are two of the most exciting directors in horror, and I’m waiting patiently to willingly accept whatever kind of nasty, fucked-up craziness they come up with next. A-