First up, the name of Steven Soderbergh isn’t one strongly associated with genre outings. While it’s safe to say that the man has had a few, he’s far more well regarded as the purveyor of what might be considered more adult-geared productions. (Sorry, folks, but it’s true that Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror do get marketed far more for teenagers than do perhaps any other form.) In fact, a good deal of the buzz surrounding Presence dealt with the anticipation that here was an accomplished, highbrow intellect and what kind of story would’ve drawn him to the ‘other side of the tracks?’
Second, the film had an advertising hook that promised audiences they were going to see something other than what had come before: here was a ghost story that was going to be spun from the point-of-view of the spectral entity and not the usual suspects. That little nugget also arguably lit a few well-placed fires on what remained of message boards, the Twittersphere, and YouTube.com. Why, how was this possible? What, pray tell, could this look like? The fact that people were anticipating a fresh take on the old tropes also boded well for the cast and crew, so kudos to the promoters who knew what angle to push.
Lastly, the motion picture was going to be released in the United States in January 2025. Those of you who don’t follow such metrics may’ve missed this, but January – for film projects, anyway – isn’t exactly the cat’s meow. It’s often been said that theatrical garbage hits screens in January, mostly because audiences aren’t thinking about going to the movies at that time of year; so, studios feel it’s the best time to unload something a bit out of the norm, hoping they just might buck the trend and make back a few bucks. This may not be a selling point – certainly not as much as the previous two – but it’s still worth weighing in the grand equation.
Well, Presence is finally here. I’ve seen it. While it likely won’t become the sensation producers believed it could be (for a variety of reasons), I’ll argue that it still deserves a bit of attention from those of us who like something off the beaten track. Frankly, I saw it as much a mystery as I did a ghost story – FYI: it’s not frightening in the least regard, though there is a jump scare or two – and the end result remains about as good storytelling as I’ve ever encountered in a genuine fright.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A family becomes convinced they are not alone after moving into their new home in the suburbs.”
As directed by Steven Soderbergh, Presence (2024) isn’t frightening in what I’d dub any mainstream way, placing its scares more in a cerebral context. Rebekah (played by Lucy Liu), Chris (Chris Sullivan) and their teenage children – Tyler (Eddy Maday) and Chloe (Callina Liang) – are in the market for a new home; though we’ll learn of the exact reasons why as the tale develops, it ties to the family’s need to start over after Chloe was involved in some unspecific event which lead to the death of a childhood friend. (Every parent’s nightmare, I’m told, involves drugs; and, yes, they factor prominently into this story in more ways than one.) The narrative point here is that this ‘great American family’ has been through some rough emotional stuff – there are ample hints at greater possible scandal involving Rebekah’s finances – and they’re displayed as fractured from the outset.
This becomes particularly relevant to the central premise because – as anyone who has read into the wider phenomenon of ghosts knows – souls are said to be bound to a certain time and place in our realm because they have some unfinished business on Earth. They, too, are spirits broken from the task of merely living; and a weighty responsibility remains on their shoulders to accomplish some tasks, right some wrong, and only then are they rewarded with sleeping in that blissful light. Casting an entire family with similar restraints immediately challenges viewers to watch them even more closely – pay attention to what they say and what they do – in order to ascertain more specifics that could be important to the plot if for no other reason that we’re less likely to learn anything of substance from the ghost.
So by positioning these characters as ones to watch, Soderbergh and company serve up the classic misdirection that goes hand-in-hand with spinning a good mystery, of which Presence arguable becomes with several puzzles. What did Rebekah do? Has Chris forgiven her? Should he forgive her? Why are these siblings constantly at odds with one another? Is it just the usual ‘family stuff,’ or is it something much deeper? Why does it look like Rebekah has more love for Tyler than she does Chloe? Why has Chris surrendered so much of the responsibilities to serving as the head of the household? Though these questions (and a few more) are introduced quite early, they continue to posit themselves in increasingly curious ways as Presence wears on: why, even this spirit seems to want to understand these people with all of their strengths and weaknesses, so the construct is balanced exceptionally between our world and the visible nether.
Essentially, what we learn is what we’ve also been told about spooks, that being they’re drawn to the young, the fragile, and the innocent: this ghost spends most of its time watching Chloe. It watches her from the corner of the open closet. It follows her from room to room. Quietly, it even stacks her schoolbooks on the corner of her dresser whilst she’s taking a quick shower. And it seems to have no particular care over the fact that, apparently, Chloe senses its very presence. In fact, it seems to feed off her attention. Naturally, we wonder, “Why might that be?”
As a film, Presence likely won’t go down well with those who watch them casually.
Honestly, it’s a bit clunky in at the set-up, and the pacing could’ve been improved as these opening vignettes – introducing the place, getting to meet the characters, etc. – wear on for a bit. In fact, it really isn’t until around the 15-minute mark (or so) that Soderbergh makes it perfectly clear that it’s a Horror movie; and – even then – it really isn’t until around 30-minutes in that anything remotely frightening happens. If you showed up for the ghost, then you’ve really missed the whole point that you – the audience – are it. You’re watching this from the spirit’s eyes. As such, it does take a bit of getting used to, both in playing the part of the voyeur and realizing there’s a bit of distortion in lensing and the occasionally herky-jerky bits common to found footage films. It never gets in the way, but it does take a bit of acclimation.
The truth is that you don’t get to be as highly an acclaimed director like Soderbergh by following rules, and I honestly suspect that might be what ultimately drew the storyteller to Koepp’s mostly quiet script: while some might argue that it sticks the landing the way a spectral whodunnit should, it also mildly reinvents the wheel when it comes to delivering what audiences might come to expect from such a yarn. It has no ‘big moments,’ but there are reveals that are necessary on the road to understanding. Its ultimate payoff comes in the form of Liu’s heart wrenching closing observation – along with the only look at who this ghost was – and everyone waiting for a twist may’ve guessed this one was coming if (A) they were paying attention when it mattered and (B) they remain open to the reality that both life’s and death’s possibilities are truly endless.
Presence transcends the formulaic even though it must embrace the predictable in small ways – to establish its genre-required bona fides – but then goes surpasses them by delivering a finale worth thinking about. Not everyone will be happy once all is known. Some might even feel a bit cheated. But the answer inarguably confirms the challenge posed by a loving father to a loving son in the heat of a family argument. That much is certain.
Highly Recommended.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Presence (2024) as I bought and paid for my very own ticket during the feature’s U.S. theatrical run.
-- EZ