Now, let me clarify for the uninitiated: found footage films – when done correctly – are the products of mad geniuses. Of that, there is no doubt. It takes a certain mindset that’s more than a bit askew in order to properly conceive and execute an entire story from a vastly limiting perspective; and yet there exist those wayward spirits here and there who have done so quite effectively with professionalism and grace. Granted, the truly good ones are few and far between, but that’s probably what makes them special experiences if not truly memorable flights of fancy. And I can appreciate those who even try and just miss the mark because effort deserves to be acknowledged – if not rewarded – when prize stories are so hard to find.
All that said, I’m going to caution readers right up front that found footage has been vastly misinterpreted by both the filmmakers and the film-watchers. In fact, a good portion of what gets openly called or critiqued as found footage these days is pretty far off base; and I think this is because the literal explosion of content emerging from the World Wide Web has offered some interesting narrative twists still needing a bit of tweaking in order to be truly effective. That’s why I’m willing to concede that a little something-something like Mind Body Spirit (2023) is a flawed but effective attempt to revolutionize found footage for the digital age. Yes, it is indeed good – very good in a handful of ways – but it is in no way, shape, or form an authentic ‘found footage’ tale.
That might be why it’s still worth your time.
(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:
“An aspiring yoga influencer embarks on a ritual practice left behind by her estranged grandmother.”
Being noticed is very close to what Mind Body Spirit revolves around.
Anya (played by the fetching Sarah J. Bartholomew) is a somewhat mousy homebody who has decided to take the jump from introvert to true extrovert, setting about the behind-the-scenes business of creating content she hopes to inevitably spring onto the online marketplace. Utilizing her New Age attitude and her commitment to self-help, she’s begun recording yoga sessions in the front room of an old California house her recently department grandmother Verasha (Kristi Noory) has left to her in her will. What Anya doesn’t know is that Verasha had a distinctly and dastardly motivation in mind (body and spirit!) when she did so, and such a secret campaign of destruction plays out for the audience with each of the young woman’s successive taping segments. We’re treated to Anya’s slow spiritual demise – along with Verasha’s return from the netherworld – as if this were the ultimate … VLOG FROM HELL!
(Yes, I kid, I kid.)
So …
As I stated above, I think there’s been a tendency by those in the film business to present tales as if they’re found footage when, in reality, they’re ridiculously far from it; and such is the case with Mind Body Spirit. Undoubtedly, this story as presented has been edited together from the footage found on Anya’s smartphone (recorder?); and it’s been given all of the bells and whistles that would accompany any online vlog up to and even including advertisements. What this means is that – from a narrative perspective alone – it can’t be ‘found footage’ because a rational mind would assume that Anya – as its creator – would’ve noticed all of these spectral happenings when and if she were editing them together for unveiling to her internet followers (assuming she had any). That isn’t a gripe, my friends: it’s just an observation of fact. Likely, Anya would’ve seen what Verasha – as a ghost or spirit or poltergeist – was up to, and all of this haunting and possession business could’ve been easily avoided.
Dispensing with that narrative issue does help increase one’s enjoyment of Mind Body Spirit: at its core, it’s an extremely effective ghost story – with a side helping of demonic intrusion – all brought to life by the winning direction of Alex Henes and Matthew Merenda as well as a fabulous central performance from Bartholomew. Together, they take us slowly and methodically through the various staged events, cleverly subverting our disbelief with some wonderful cinematography in reasonable cramped quarters, and they give their lead actress time to plant seeds with each and every smaller reveal, all leading up to the big ‘showdown’ (of sorts). Grandma had issues, obviously, and she’s not willing to go quietly into the night. Sadly, Anya becomes little more than the next victim on her list, and all of this plays out rather smartly in what I’ll call ‘vlogtime.’
Like the best scripts do, Mind Body Spirit does make some observations about our world and the times in which we live. Anya shares several video calls with her mother Lenka (Anna Knigge), and their mild estrangement becomes crystal clear in these troubled exchanges. And if the dialogue doesn’t make it perfectly clear, then all you need do is look at the tenuousness of the connectivity – images freeze up, mother is easily distracted by things occurring offscreen, etc. – leading this viewing to ask how much of our humanity has been sacrificed by our dependence on technology? Sure, it’s brought us closer in some ways, but how might it have broadened the divide as well? Additionally, Anya is visited by a former childhood friend Kenzi (Madi Bready) – a successful influencer whose narcissism and self-absorption is evident immediately – and it’s pretty clear that in Horror terms this hot, young professional just stepped into the worst place she will ever visit for the rest of her days. (Let’s make that “short days,” too.)
Also, one has to accept that Anya’s command of time and space is more than a bit stilted. Apparently, she’s really, really, really bad at spatial problems because – as we learn – there’s an entire hidden room she never imagined in the same floor space she’s admittedly only been using a short time; but I would notice and question why there was an obvious easement to the floor plan. Not only that, but we soon learn that there’s an entire second floor, the hints of a possible third floor, and an additional concealed crawl space … and you see where I’m heading with this. Why, it’s almost like there was another entire house magically hidden within this old home; and Anya – no engineer – somehow missed it when touring the place? Yeah. That dog don’t hunt, folks.
Where the directors make a huge misstep (in my opinion) is that – for reasons I’m at a loss to explain – they felt it necessary to remind their audience that they’re watching an online YouTube-style video: the narrative gets broken up a few times with some strategically placed advertisements (Kenzi’s!) underscoring such a technological screening, along with a few of those God-awful scrolling circles to let you know streaming rates are varying. While I appreciate how these snippets were used to enhance the storyline, I just feel they were ultimately inconsequential to the fright fest that should’ve stayed front-and-center the entire wild ride.
Mind Body Spirit (2023) was produced by Dan Asma. According to a Google.com search, the film is presently available for rental or purchase digitally on the Vudu streaming platform. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were pretty exceptional from start-to-finish: there’s a bit of special effects wizardy along the way, but it’s all wonderfully conceived and executed. As for the special features? Because I streamed this on the World Wide Web, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended.
As I’ve tried to be clear, Mind Body Spirit (2023) really only uses the ‘found footage’ construct in order to try doing something a bit fresh and a bit different with it. While the effort doesn’t always work and sometimes gets in the way of what could be an otherwise convincing ghost story, I’ll always applaud those who strive to do something different if the end result is as winning as this one is. Flawed but effective, Mind Body Spirit proves once again that Spirit always trumps Mind and Body when it comes to Horror.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Villain Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to Mind Body Spirit (2023) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ