Film Review — The Babadook
★★★★☆ Emotionally-charged domestic horror is an instant classic
Still grieving the loss of her husband, a single mother and her young son are plagued by a sinister presence that lurks in the shadows of their home.
A powerful meditation on the all-consuming dangers of unprocessed trauma, Jennifer Kent’s remarkable housebound horror debut instantly deserves recognition alongside the greats of the genre.
Sharing thematic similarities with Hereditary, Ari Aster’s equally excellent debut that would follow just a year later, Kent demonstrates poise and precision, slowly building ominous tension while eschewing techniques that have plagued modern monster movies. Like the best genre filmmakers, Kent knows just what to show and when, leaving us to speculate on the featureless terrors lurking in the shadows across the room.
Traditional scares are here; the titular menace is rendered beautifully, bought to life with practical effects and stop-motion rather than hollow CGI. The film’s house, purpose-built for the production, is also a standout feature, an atmospheric dwelling lacking colour and warmth, seemingly shrinking in size as the conflict grows.
But by far The Babadook’s most effective horror is derived from Kent’s exploration of unmitigable grief, a long-gestating depression that poisons what should be a loving family home.
Essie Davis and Noah Wiseman are simply magnificent as the central mother-and-son pairing. Young Wiseman’s striking resemblance to my own child admittedly enhancing the potency of the film’s emotionally compromising terrors. The growing rift between them is heartbreaking to watch unfold, increasingly difficult scenes that I’m pleased to learn the child, much like Linda Blair back in the day, was largely protected from during production.
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