Real estate is the real horror.
In Abandoned, we find ourselves in the middle of a marriage in peril. Searching for a reprieve from the chokehold that is mental illness after pregnancy, the couple relocates to a remote farmhouse to somehow cure Sara, a new mother, of her depression and potential hallucinations. This beautiful house full of antiques and mystery somehow doesn't do the trick and comes with a host of heebie-jeebies of its own.
It's a classic tale of a house haunted and the people in it haunted by their own demons. The problem with a pastiche like this is that it follows in the treads of previous excellent films and doesn't quite measure up. Try to scrub the complexities of Rosemary's Baby and Saint Maud from your head if you can. Spoiler: I could not.
There is nary a hint of buildup to the central creep theme, with ominous music playing immediately during a scene with a realtor. Granted, dealing with real estate can be scary, so it's not unwarranted. But it does set us up with some notions that this house may not be the safe haven they imagine. Sara is conveniently left alone in her large home while her husband Alex works long hours taking out pigs in his day job (don't worry, it's symbolism). The isolation seems to worsen her fragile state of mind and the house decides to take its issues out on her. Is it all in her head or is the house truly trying to take her down?
Sara is played by the very capable Emma Roberts who still feels somewhat miscast. There are so many moments of silence where her face is having to do the heavy lifting, and I think she's better off in comedic roles or just a more dynamic character archetype. John Gallagher Jr. plays her husband Alex and the incredible Michael Shannon lends some expository gravitas to the history of the house as the neighbor, Renner.
Generally speaking, Sara and Alex's interactions are weirdly stiff, often unnatural, and veer into WTF territory at times. The psuedo-twist with Shannon's character can be seen coming from space, but he makes every scene better regardless. The third act doesn't even really attempt to scare, but more to just wrap things up. As far as dramatic tension goes, it's all more molehills than mountains, which doesn't have to be a bad thing necessarily. Amped up on too many superhero franchise films? Let's put on this super slow-burn horror that won't work us up too much to get to bed later.
This is Spencer Squire’s first foray into directing and he found some real loveliness in the color and framing. In set design, however, I would have loved for the house to be more representative of the actual era in which it was abandoned, the 1980s. This was only 40 years ago. The photographs look too old, the furnishings look too old, and it all seems to wash away into "general haunted house" territory. Let's jazz this place up with some orange shag.
Abandoned also chooses the very risky path of leaning on an actual mental illness (in this case, the very real postpartum psychosis) as the crux of the plotline. Mental illness can easily be weaponized, villainized, or treated insensitively and this one really rides that line. I'm always hoping for nuanced and realistic portrayals, but it's usually just exploitative. There's a problematic scene in the conclusion that really feels irresponsible, but I'll keep this spoiler-free. We actually do get some interesting looks into the struggles of choosing between medication and breastfeeding, certainly a real choice people often have to make. But overall, the themes feel a bit cheap.
Ultimately, if you're a fan of some bloodless spook (which I am), a creepy family tale of intergenerational trauma (yes please), and some frankly lovely and moody scenery (darn-tootin'), then Abandoned may bring you some fun. Just don't expect tons of scares unless you find the wailing of infants to be a jump scare in and of itself (right there with ya).
Catherine Clark is a Chicago-based editor and designer who spends time reading, gaming, writing, and producing independent films, and of course, watching movies en masse. You can find her words and work on USA Today, Nerd Wallet, Chicago Tribune, NPR, Huffington Post, Buzzfeed, and more. You can find more of her reviews on Letterboxd.
It's a classic tale of a house haunted and the people in it haunted by their own demons. The problem with a pastiche like this is that it follows in the treads of previous excellent films and doesn't quite measure up. Try to scrub the complexities of Rosemary's Baby and Saint Maud from your head if you can. Spoiler: I could not.
There is nary a hint of buildup to the central creep theme, with ominous music playing immediately during a scene with a realtor. Granted, dealing with real estate can be scary, so it's not unwarranted. But it does set us up with some notions that this house may not be the safe haven they imagine. Sara is conveniently left alone in her large home while her husband Alex works long hours taking out pigs in his day job (don't worry, it's symbolism). The isolation seems to worsen her fragile state of mind and the house decides to take its issues out on her. Is it all in her head or is the house truly trying to take her down?
Sara is played by the very capable Emma Roberts who still feels somewhat miscast. There are so many moments of silence where her face is having to do the heavy lifting, and I think she's better off in comedic roles or just a more dynamic character archetype. John Gallagher Jr. plays her husband Alex and the incredible Michael Shannon lends some expository gravitas to the history of the house as the neighbor, Renner.
Generally speaking, Sara and Alex's interactions are weirdly stiff, often unnatural, and veer into WTF territory at times. The psuedo-twist with Shannon's character can be seen coming from space, but he makes every scene better regardless. The third act doesn't even really attempt to scare, but more to just wrap things up. As far as dramatic tension goes, it's all more molehills than mountains, which doesn't have to be a bad thing necessarily. Amped up on too many superhero franchise films? Let's put on this super slow-burn horror that won't work us up too much to get to bed later.
This is Spencer Squire’s first foray into directing and he found some real loveliness in the color and framing. In set design, however, I would have loved for the house to be more representative of the actual era in which it was abandoned, the 1980s. This was only 40 years ago. The photographs look too old, the furnishings look too old, and it all seems to wash away into "general haunted house" territory. Let's jazz this place up with some orange shag.
Abandoned also chooses the very risky path of leaning on an actual mental illness (in this case, the very real postpartum psychosis) as the crux of the plotline. Mental illness can easily be weaponized, villainized, or treated insensitively and this one really rides that line. I'm always hoping for nuanced and realistic portrayals, but it's usually just exploitative. There's a problematic scene in the conclusion that really feels irresponsible, but I'll keep this spoiler-free. We actually do get some interesting looks into the struggles of choosing between medication and breastfeeding, certainly a real choice people often have to make. But overall, the themes feel a bit cheap.
Ultimately, if you're a fan of some bloodless spook (which I am), a creepy family tale of intergenerational trauma (yes please), and some frankly lovely and moody scenery (darn-tootin'), then Abandoned may bring you some fun. Just don't expect tons of scares unless you find the wailing of infants to be a jump scare in and of itself (right there with ya).
Catherine Clark is a Chicago-based editor and designer who spends time reading, gaming, writing, and producing independent films, and of course, watching movies en masse. You can find her words and work on USA Today, Nerd Wallet, Chicago Tribune, NPR, Huffington Post, Buzzfeed, and more. You can find more of her reviews on Letterboxd.
Categories: horror, scary ghosties, spooky old buildings
