Whether the surprise at the end is worth the journey is up to the viewer, but given its lifelike first-person feel, Presence charts a course as uncomfortable as those camera shots from Evil Dead but scares are not present.
Presence is a slow-burn film that is light on scares but heavy on questions and tension as it builds to its climax. While the film has a realistic feel, the characters feel a bit hollow despite plenty of scenes with them interacting. Still, the unique point of view and long shots as the entity moves through the home create a voyeuristic discomfort. Whether the surprise at the end is worth the journey is up to the viewer, but given its lifelike first-person feel, Presence charts a course as uncomfortable as those camera shots from Evil Dead but scares are not present.
With Steven Soderbergh’s (Kimi, Erin Brockovich) direction, the film, written by David Koepp (Jurassic Park, Stir of Echoes), starts in an empty home. The being inside moves through the house until a family arrives to move in. Over time, little things add up—an item moved here, a gust of breath there. So, the family realizes they are not alone. What Presence tries to build on is the familial dynamic, but too few meaningful connections resonate between members. Rather than a family, it’s a collection of strangers playing house. So, while the camera work is impressive in its unnerving quality, too little occurs to bridge the emotional gap between the characters and audiences.
Presence Is Creepy When It’s Close
There are plenty of movies that use uncomfortable close-ups. However, in Presence, there’s an additional personal discomfort. It’s as though viewers are the entity moving closer to the family. Too close at times. But that’s what makes the movie disorienting and uncomfortable. There are few scenes in the film where it feels like it’s shot to capture the scene. Instead, it all feels like a perspective, similar to some of the scenes in Peeping Tom. Thanks to that perspective, there’s a heightened sense of worry and dread.
Slow Burn With a Question
What keeps the film going, aside from the first-person view of the spirit moving around the home far too close for comfort, is the question. Who is this spirit? What do they want? That, along with the shots, drives the story forward. It’s as though everything else occurs on the periphery of the entity and viewers alike.
The Cast Feels Disconnected From Each Other
Lucy Liu (Red One, Kill Bill Vol. 1) plays the mother, Rebecca, and Chris Sullivan (This Is Us, What If…?) plays her husband, Chris. Rounding out the family is the daughter, Chloe, played by Callina Liang (Bad Genius), and son, Tyler, played by Eddy Maday. While some have acting under their belt, the quartet feels more like strangers playing house. So, while the film’s viewpoint pulls audiences in, the disconnect with the characters creates a hindrance.
But it could also be what’s happening during their move. Their daughter lost friends, and something potentially criminal looms with Rebecca’s work. So, it’s a volatile time. However, Presence lacks urgency because of the lack of emotional connection. The mystery alone drives viewers on. It feels at once removed one moment and profoundly deep the next.
Presence feels unique in its directing but disconnected at times. However, it feels like that’s the point. Viewers are as lost as what’s trapped in the house, trying to understand the point as the movie progresses. It’ll be up to audiences to decide if the climax makes the film worthwhile. For me, Presence creates a jagged, at times emotionally bereft film that, through the surprise ending and direction, still packs a wallop, but it is not horror.
