'Talk to Me' Review: A24 Strikes Gold Once Again
A24 horror has almost become its own genre. To many, Hereditary and Midsommar are landmarks of the type, changing the minds of masses in regards to what scary movies can be, and how far they can go. ‘Talk to Me’ is very akin to those releases; the indie, secluded feel and clear touch of a passionate filmmaker(s) with something to prove lies clearly on the face. Where this film separates itself is in the theming, presenting one of the most rigorous evaluations of loneliness and addiction any film has seen in a long while. A tale of caution for the generation that will make-up the majority of its audience, veiled by an alluring black sheet that seemingly has no end in any direction.
Talk to Me opens on a suffocating demonstration of its concept. The sequence is not only an harrowing introduction, but stands alone as a unique feat in filmmaking. A one-shot snakes through the chaos of a multi-story house party, following one man as he slowly unravels a tragedy that the film builds up to. The reveal is subtle, the moment fleeting, but in what is the first example of the film’s sublime sound design the chaos takes on new meaning and we cut to the title card.
The audiences flocking to this film simply do not know what they’re in for, and that’s a good thing. The trailers, as effective as they are, do it no justice. This is a film that people are going to run home to tell their friends about; they’ll go see it again just to endure it once more. Talk to Me is as moving as it is stupefying.
The film follows a main group as much as it does any specific character, highschool students searching for feeling any way they can get it. There are trickles of love and longing, but they’re ultimately abandoned in favor of affairs more sinister. Sophia Wilde’s Mia is the closest thing we get to a main character, and her performance is flawless; even if she’d been on-screen less, she was bound to stand out. She manages to capture the impulsiveness of her character, a tragic result of circumstances to which she’s trying not to fall, with ease. It’s one of the best performances of the year without a doubt, and one that will likely be hailed as career-defining for a long time.
Wilde is the ace, but every member of the cast is truly great, and the Philippou brothers craft an agonizing and realistic world for them to live, and die, in. The environment is radioactive; parties are packed with people present only to take advantage of one another. Social media is presented as a curse in almost every manner. It’s used to manipulate, confuse, and hurt in constant intervals.
Similarly, the porcelain hand at the center of all the madness is the epicenter for every present struggle. Its connection to a different realm, and the possession that flows from it, is painted as a sort of drug for the people who use it. There’s even a montage sequence similar to many party scenes in other films, but instead of celebrating that lifestyle, it shortly condemns it. The dangers of addiction linger longer than the instant something is used, and the film prioritizes that point throughout the rest of the runtime following those first few functions.
Talk to Me manages some surprisingly strong emotions, too, the kind that are simply unheard of in the horror genre at large. In addition to the main events, a side-plot develops along the way and eventually comes to a head in heartbreaking fashion. The scene essentially kicks off the climax, and is remarkably raw. A special shout to Marcus Johnson, who takes a character you hardly know at that point and assures that you’ll be absolutely ripped apart by the scene’s end. What follows makes it all the more tragic, and stands out in a final act full of unbelievable execution.
It isn’t necessarily the type of film that pays anything off. Rather, it confirms your worst fears wrought from possibilities only hinted at, one by one, prying any hope you had left away in violent jerks. The only note of relief comes at the bitter end, and even then it’s hard to revel in it given how draining the experience is altogether.
To say that the experience is draining is an understatement. This film will fully sap you; emotionally and physically, it demands actual energy from its audience. There’s no sitting still. You’ll squirm, head pulsing and heart pounding. You may even weep, either in the theater or in retrospect. It latches on and sticks with you. If the story itself isn’t enough to ensure that alone, then the numerous nightmarish visions, even those that last just seconds, will stitch themselves onto your eyes and play on repeat
Talk to Me isn’t quite as scary as the Aster A24 duology, but matches both in being deeply unsettling. The film is pure disturbia, distilled down into a slimy essence pouring from the mouths of the young and reckless at hand. Viewers in the same swathe as the characters may leave stained by it, marked and made different.
No matter what draws you to this film, you’ll leave with more than you bargained for. This is a panoptic view of things that most people try and stay blind to; it suggests impact beyond your eyes, on people you’ll never meet. That draws back to the sheer power of social media, and is another way that Talk to Me emphasizes the importance of mental health and careful interactions. Mishandling even one moment with the wrong person can lead to an unstoppable spiral and loss of all kinds.
It’s an experience you have to commit to, and it’s a difficult ride, but there’s something of value here for everyone. Casual audiences and film buffs alike should find a place with Talk to Me, and horror fans specifically may be in the presence of a future cult classic. Let it in.