A haunting film debut
Here Before, the debut feature from director Stacey Gregg, caught my eye for two reasons. First, it was nominated for the 2021 SXSW Grand Jury Award (pretty prestigious), and second, it stars Andrea Riseborough. After watching the trailer, I knew it was a film I wanted to see. The gorgeous cinematography alone, courtesy of Chloë Thomson, was enough to secure my attention.
Here Before begins on a foggy Irish morning, as Laura (Andrea Riseborough) works in her garden. A new family moves in next door, and their young daughter, Megan, immediately charms Laura. As the story continues, Megan says odd things, indicating that she could be the reincarnation of Laura's deceased daughter, Josie. Unfortunately for Laura, Megan's mom is wary of their growing connection. It doesn't take long before the two families feud, culminating in an unexpected twist.
Now, let's get the obvious out of the way -- people love Andrea. Ever since I saw her in the brilliant film Mandy (2018), the praise for her performances has been a constant. Here Before is no different. Each review admires the star's nuanced deliveries, thoughtful expressions, and commitment to her character. These positive remarks are well earned. Andrea is, no doubt, a great actor. However, the strength of Andrea's performance doesn't need to overshadow the work of Stacey Gregg.
When I hear that a filmmaker, like Stacey, has a background in the theater, I expect to sense it in her work. On the positive side, her characters tend to be well realized. The actors likely had time to rehearse -- a luxury many indie directors aren't able to provide. On the negative side, people who come from the theater sometimes forget the potential that comes with film. They may favor objectivity over subjectivity, in a way that hurts their direction. They may also be afraid, or uninterested, in experimenting with sound and stylized visuals. I'm happy to say Stacey doesn't fall into any of these traps. Here Before feels like it was directed by someone who planned to make movies her entire life.
The film's greatest strength is its atmosphere. The rain-drenched story world aches of loneliness, emphasized by Adam Janota Bzowski's eerie music (the same composer of Saint Maud). My favorite scene happens early on, when Laura sees Megan dancing outside. The brief sequence that follows is masterfully directed. It begins when Laura's son, Tadhg, wheels a garbage bin in the foreground. The wheels' sounds reverberate, signaling a transition to a heightened reality. Laura asks Megan, "Can I join in?" As the two dance, a combination of lens flares, superimposed images, and haunting music create a foreboding sense of euphoria. It's a brilliant sequence, demonstrating the evocative power of motion picture and sound.
I found many of these beautifully crafted moments in Here Before and wasn't expecting anything to divide the audience. Naturally, when the story's twist arrived, I had to adjust those expectations. Online reviews that mention the twist range from sheer positivity to disappointment. Although the twist wasn't exactly what I hoped for, I remained as engaged as ever. The final confrontation is tense and memorable. Of course, I won't spoil the ending. The only other thing I'll say is I appreciate how the twist strengthens Laura's final lines. "She's here ... She's always been here." A haunting ending for a haunting film.
Here Before is now in theaters and arrives on VOD February 15th.
Parker Brennon is a queer filmmaker, with an affinity for horror stories. He's been making movies since he was 15, and now, he's writing about them too.
Here Before begins on a foggy Irish morning, as Laura (Andrea Riseborough) works in her garden. A new family moves in next door, and their young daughter, Megan, immediately charms Laura. As the story continues, Megan says odd things, indicating that she could be the reincarnation of Laura's deceased daughter, Josie. Unfortunately for Laura, Megan's mom is wary of their growing connection. It doesn't take long before the two families feud, culminating in an unexpected twist.
Now, let's get the obvious out of the way -- people love Andrea. Ever since I saw her in the brilliant film Mandy (2018), the praise for her performances has been a constant. Here Before is no different. Each review admires the star's nuanced deliveries, thoughtful expressions, and commitment to her character. These positive remarks are well earned. Andrea is, no doubt, a great actor. However, the strength of Andrea's performance doesn't need to overshadow the work of Stacey Gregg.
When I hear that a filmmaker, like Stacey, has a background in the theater, I expect to sense it in her work. On the positive side, her characters tend to be well realized. The actors likely had time to rehearse -- a luxury many indie directors aren't able to provide. On the negative side, people who come from the theater sometimes forget the potential that comes with film. They may favor objectivity over subjectivity, in a way that hurts their direction. They may also be afraid, or uninterested, in experimenting with sound and stylized visuals. I'm happy to say Stacey doesn't fall into any of these traps. Here Before feels like it was directed by someone who planned to make movies her entire life.
The film's greatest strength is its atmosphere. The rain-drenched story world aches of loneliness, emphasized by Adam Janota Bzowski's eerie music (the same composer of Saint Maud). My favorite scene happens early on, when Laura sees Megan dancing outside. The brief sequence that follows is masterfully directed. It begins when Laura's son, Tadhg, wheels a garbage bin in the foreground. The wheels' sounds reverberate, signaling a transition to a heightened reality. Laura asks Megan, "Can I join in?" As the two dance, a combination of lens flares, superimposed images, and haunting music create a foreboding sense of euphoria. It's a brilliant sequence, demonstrating the evocative power of motion picture and sound.
I found many of these beautifully crafted moments in Here Before and wasn't expecting anything to divide the audience. Naturally, when the story's twist arrived, I had to adjust those expectations. Online reviews that mention the twist range from sheer positivity to disappointment. Although the twist wasn't exactly what I hoped for, I remained as engaged as ever. The final confrontation is tense and memorable. Of course, I won't spoil the ending. The only other thing I'll say is I appreciate how the twist strengthens Laura's final lines. "She's here ... She's always been here." A haunting ending for a haunting film.
Here Before is now in theaters and arrives on VOD February 15th.
Parker Brennon is a queer filmmaker, with an affinity for horror stories. He's been making movies since he was 15, and now, he's writing about them too.
