
There’s no denying that my excitement for Bring Her Back, Danny and Michael Philippou’s follow up to my favourite film of 2023, Talk to Me, was incredibly high. The breakout horror hit not only put the RackaRacka duo on the map of up and coming filmmaking talent to keep an eye on, but it solidified the fact that the twin brothers are here to tell unique, immersive, and confronting stories within the horror genre.
Bring Her Back is very much still a Philippou brothers horror flick, with all the style and substance that was established with Talk To Me. But it’s the tonal detour from their debut feature, focusing on a far more harrowingly sombre character-driven narrative, that showcases the fact that the twin filmmakers are not a one-trick pony, and if they continue on this path of creating and expanded on their original ideas, they will solidify themselves as generational cinematic talents.
” a far more harrowingly sombre, character driven narrative “
Thematically, this spiritual continuation to Talk to Me is once again an examination of the many forms of grief. After the sudden death of their father, step-siblings Andy (Billy Barratt) and Piper (Sora Wong), are placed into the foster care of Laura (Sally Hawkins), who herself in the last year has lost her own daughter in a tragic drowning accident. Also under the care of Laura is a young, mute boy named Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), who’s uncomfortable and, at times, violent, demeanour begins to cause concern for Andy and Piper’s safety in this unfamiliar territory. Territory that is even more so unfamiliar for Piper, who is visually impaired, a similarity that is revealed to be shared with Laura’s deceased daughter. With Andy beginning to become more suspicious of Laura and her ever-growing deranged behaviour, he becomes aware of a sinister plan, and the extreme lengths Laura’s own grief will take her.
Bring Her Back examines grief on an incredibly visceral level. For Andy, the visual manifestation of his father’s dead body haunts him, while Laura’s grief is expelled through the deranged desperation of seeing her daughter again, which she struggles to hide from Andy and Piper. At its core, this is a character-driven, emotion-filled narrative where two conflicting styles of grief often butt heads with each other in a very tense fashion. Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman’s screenplay does a fantastic job of making the audience empathise with each character’s loss, despite the sinister nature behind the intentions.
Being a far more character-orientated piece, the pacing of the story is far more patient that the energy-injected nature of Talk to Me. The Philippou’s really don’t mind leaving the audience to linger in a dark moment of uncomfortable emotion, something that not only builds the character arcs, but also the grim tension. The slow build of the first two acts does a brilliant job of continually drawing you in, waiting for the powder keg to explode. And when it does, it’s as thoroughly rewarding, as it is phenomenally disturbing.
There is an element of the film in which Laura watches videotapes of possessions, exorcisms, and other satanic rituals that reveals a dense backstory and world that exists outside of this personal story. While there is absolutely a desire to find out more about this lore that is very minorly introduced, the script drip feeds just enough context to drive the core narrative. However, if this was a concept that the Philippou’s would explore more in future films, it would be welcomed.
The character work is brought to life by an incredible performance from Sally Hawkins, in a role like we have never seen from her before. There is an immediate sense of unease when Andy and Piper meet Laura, and Hawkins ability to not overplay the unhinged demeanour creates a brilliant conflict where you don’t know whether she’s just a little kooky, or if indeed there are far more sinister undertones to her personality. Then the growing dedication to the unravelling of Laura’s plan leads Hawkins to let loose in the most confronting, yet heartbreaking of ways.
The other standout of the cast is Billy Barratt, who plays a teenager with so much emotional weight on his shoulders, with such gripping energy. Andy is very much the audience’s entry point into the story, and throughout the film, you feel his grief, anger, fear, and desire to protect his sister in such a visceral and immersive way. Even though Andy shares the emotional core of the film with Laura, it’s impossible to not feel completely wrapped up in his journey because of how great Barratt’s performance is. And the two young actors who round out this story, Sora Wong and Jonah Wren Phillips, are great, bringing an innocent sincerity to their roles, while convincingly performing some of the film’s most confronting and gnarly scenes.
On a visual level, the Philippou brothers utilise such an interesting visual language to tell each character’s story. There are many shots of Piper’s hand as she establishes herself within the new surroundings, immersing the audience into her sensory journey. This is highlighted by a great shot of when Piper hears Laura’s voice for the first time, and Laura is only seen as a shapely silhouette in the distance, which is how Piper describes the limit of her vision. Then, when the story shifts to Laura’s perspective, there is an intimacy in how the camera shoots her, often in close-up, revealing every nuanced emotion that goes through her eyes. Oliver is shot from a distance, giving the audience the same sense of voyeurism Andy has watching the ever-growing disturbing nature of Oliver’s antics play out. There is just as much beauty and substance in Philippou’s direction, as there is dynamic immersion.
Just because Bring Her Back is a more patient character drama, does not mean that the horror violence takes a back seat. This is a brutal film, with some of the most squirm-inducing body horror, often happening to children too, to create such a heightened experience. There is no shying away from the intense violence, especially in a scene involving a knife and teeth that will make even the most hardened of horror fans cringe, but as shocking as these moments are, they all play in service of the story and characters, which is a tough balance for some filmmakers, but one that the Phillipou’s have mastered here.
Bring Her Back is a tonal detour from Danny and Michael Philippou’s Talk to Me, swapping out the energetic, horror fun for a far more patient, emotionally-driven examination of how grief can consume people. The visual language of their storytelling matches incredibly well with the fleshed out characters and dedicated performances, which continually raise the tension until the film explodes into some of the most deranged and uncomfortable horror scenes of the year so far.
BRING HER BACK will be released in cinemas May 29th 2025.


