The Babadook (2014)
Jennifer Kent
"Sometimes I just want to smash your head against the brick wall, until your fucking brains pop out."
When I was in social work school, my Cognitive Behavioral Therapy professor showed the class a video of what it looks like to have schizophrenia:
It's a little cheesy, but informative, and consulted people living with schizophrenia. Now this isn't designed to show every single type of schizophrenia, but I think it's pretty effective at showing the kind of panic you might be in when you can't trust what you're seeing or hearing.
The Babadook also captures this pretty well.
I first saw The Babadook at the fabulous 12 Hours of Terror event at the Belcourt Theatre in Nashville, TN shortly after it was released. It was a surprise film, so the audience had no time to do research, and I'm sure most of us had never heard of it. As someone who enjoys going into a film completely fresh, it was a nice treat. This second time around, it's a little rougher around the edges than I remember, but it's still an effective look at a psychotic break and the weight of trauma.
The Babadook is the story of a widowed mother (Amelia) and her six-year-old son (Sam) as they struggle to find their place in the world following the death of a husband and father. The director, Jennifer Kent, has a great understanding of the crushing banality of dealing with daily life in the midst of mental health struggles and unresolved trauma. Amelia, who looks more and more disheveled and disorganized as the film goes on, plods through life like a zombie. Her job at a nursing home appears soul-crushing and boring, and Sam's struggles at school are a constant distraction.
The actor who plays Sam does a great job of portraying the most annoying six-year-old in history, at least at the beginning of the movie. He's obnoxious, loud, insistent upon attention, and cannot seem to relate to people besides his mother. He speaks incessantly of monsters and wanting to smash their heads if they ever try to get in the house. He tinkers with bizarre objects that fling croquet balls or darts, and gets kicked out of school for bringing the weapons to class. Sam's aunt and cousin can't stand him, and even Amelia clearly struggles with attachment at times. She viciously snaps at him when he hugs her too long, and slides to the edge of the bed to escape his efforts to cuddle with her at night.
Sleep appears to be a constant struggle for Amelia and time passes at indeterminate intervals. Sometimes she'll drift away for seconds, and other times she oversleeps by hours and misses work. Her family is unsupportive and minimizes her pain, telling her that her husband died nearly seven years ago, and that it is time to move on. The only genuine joy in her life appears to be her adorable and fuzzy dog, Bugsy.
I'm a little sad that The Babadook is the only film I've reviewed so far that has been directed by a woman. I feel like Kent's touches are what turn it from a standard jump-scare, monster horror into something far more sinister. When Amelia begins to break down, you can tell that Kent understands what it's like to be a working mother with a...let's say precocious child.
One night at bedtime, Sam picks a book to read:
Neither Amelia nor Sam seem to know where the book came from, and there doesn't appear to be any publisher markings on it. But later in the film we learn that Amelia's previous life was as a writer of children's books. And really, how else could something like this appear on her child's bookshelf?
The things that scare Amelia aren't spooky ghost stories or mysterious books about a shadowy figure. She's afraid of facing the rest of her life alone. She's afraid that her son will be taken away from her because of his problems. She's afraid of herself and the thoughts that she gives into late at night. The Babadook is just the form that is given to her mental illness and fear.
The most effective scenes in the film involve Amelia's direct interactions with Sam, and how they change over time. We're given a hint of trouble early on when she stops him from hugging her, or when she avoids cuddling with him in bed, but things devolve further. She takes him to a doctor to get a sedative so that he (and she) can sleep at night, and keeps making him take it even though he says it's making him sick. She keeps him at home away from school and family events partly out of exhaustion and partly because she is fed up with him screaming about monsters to anybody within earshot. They routinely shriek at each other.
The scenes that don't work so well are the ones with the actual Babadook. They're a bit cheesy, and too early 2000's spooky for me. The film also uses a generic audio sample for the Babadook's roar, which always takes me out of the movie, because it's the same roaring sound effect used in Warcraft II and Mortal Kombat (it's Motaro's roar, if you're curious). The Babadook is creepier as an idea, or a shadow, or a reappearing children's book, not as a fleshed out character wearing a tophat and a sinister grin.
But all is forgiven, because Amelia's inevitable meltdown is so brilliantly written and acted. She has a full-blown psychotic break and goes on a bit of a rampage, first strangling her beloved dog and then going after Sam. The way that Amelia spits out that she wants to bash Sam's head against a brick wall until his brains spill out is awful, and chilling, and darkly comic. The side of her that she does not want to admit exists truly hates Sam, and blames him for taking her husband away from her. And, as it turns out, Sam blames her for the same thing.
The very end of the film is also well done, showing that Amelia has recovered from the worst of her breakdown, but things hardly appear cheery and fun. Sam is preparing for his seventh birthday party, and Amelia gets a visit from Child Services. Sam explains to the two social workers that he doesn't usually have a party on his exact birthday because his father died taking Amelia to the hospital to give birth. A clearer picture begins to form.
Later, Sam and Amelia appear to be gardening, but all they're doing is collecting worms to feed to the dark monster that now lives in their basement. This is when we realize that Amelia goes through this trauma regularly, perhaps on a yearly basis, keeping her monster of pain, and hate, and anger, and illness below the surface, placating it with small offerings and lying to herself that it's all going to be ok without any help. But no shade toward Amelia: it's what we all do with our struggles.
The Babadook is a fine modern horror film. If you've never seen it, you should certainly give it a chance. I feel like it might resonate with some people more than others. For me, it's not the greatest entry in the "mental illness is the true terror" subgenre, but it's far from the worst. There's a lot to enjoy, and some particularly good acting. I give it three and a half DOOKs out of five.
It's a little cheesy, but informative, and consulted people living with schizophrenia. Now this isn't designed to show every single type of schizophrenia, but I think it's pretty effective at showing the kind of panic you might be in when you can't trust what you're seeing or hearing.
The Babadook also captures this pretty well.
I first saw The Babadook at the fabulous 12 Hours of Terror event at the Belcourt Theatre in Nashville, TN shortly after it was released. It was a surprise film, so the audience had no time to do research, and I'm sure most of us had never heard of it. As someone who enjoys going into a film completely fresh, it was a nice treat. This second time around, it's a little rougher around the edges than I remember, but it's still an effective look at a psychotic break and the weight of trauma.
The Babadook is the story of a widowed mother (Amelia) and her six-year-old son (Sam) as they struggle to find their place in the world following the death of a husband and father. The director, Jennifer Kent, has a great understanding of the crushing banality of dealing with daily life in the midst of mental health struggles and unresolved trauma. Amelia, who looks more and more disheveled and disorganized as the film goes on, plods through life like a zombie. Her job at a nursing home appears soul-crushing and boring, and Sam's struggles at school are a constant distraction.
The actor who plays Sam does a great job of portraying the most annoying six-year-old in history, at least at the beginning of the movie. He's obnoxious, loud, insistent upon attention, and cannot seem to relate to people besides his mother. He speaks incessantly of monsters and wanting to smash their heads if they ever try to get in the house. He tinkers with bizarre objects that fling croquet balls or darts, and gets kicked out of school for bringing the weapons to class. Sam's aunt and cousin can't stand him, and even Amelia clearly struggles with attachment at times. She viciously snaps at him when he hugs her too long, and slides to the edge of the bed to escape his efforts to cuddle with her at night.
Sleep appears to be a constant struggle for Amelia and time passes at indeterminate intervals. Sometimes she'll drift away for seconds, and other times she oversleeps by hours and misses work. Her family is unsupportive and minimizes her pain, telling her that her husband died nearly seven years ago, and that it is time to move on. The only genuine joy in her life appears to be her adorable and fuzzy dog, Bugsy.
I'm a little sad that The Babadook is the only film I've reviewed so far that has been directed by a woman. I feel like Kent's touches are what turn it from a standard jump-scare, monster horror into something far more sinister. When Amelia begins to break down, you can tell that Kent understands what it's like to be a working mother with a...let's say precocious child.
One night at bedtime, Sam picks a book to read:
Neither Amelia nor Sam seem to know where the book came from, and there doesn't appear to be any publisher markings on it. But later in the film we learn that Amelia's previous life was as a writer of children's books. And really, how else could something like this appear on her child's bookshelf?
The things that scare Amelia aren't spooky ghost stories or mysterious books about a shadowy figure. She's afraid of facing the rest of her life alone. She's afraid that her son will be taken away from her because of his problems. She's afraid of herself and the thoughts that she gives into late at night. The Babadook is just the form that is given to her mental illness and fear.
The most effective scenes in the film involve Amelia's direct interactions with Sam, and how they change over time. We're given a hint of trouble early on when she stops him from hugging her, or when she avoids cuddling with him in bed, but things devolve further. She takes him to a doctor to get a sedative so that he (and she) can sleep at night, and keeps making him take it even though he says it's making him sick. She keeps him at home away from school and family events partly out of exhaustion and partly because she is fed up with him screaming about monsters to anybody within earshot. They routinely shriek at each other.
The scenes that don't work so well are the ones with the actual Babadook. They're a bit cheesy, and too early 2000's spooky for me. The film also uses a generic audio sample for the Babadook's roar, which always takes me out of the movie, because it's the same roaring sound effect used in Warcraft II and Mortal Kombat (it's Motaro's roar, if you're curious). The Babadook is creepier as an idea, or a shadow, or a reappearing children's book, not as a fleshed out character wearing a tophat and a sinister grin.
But all is forgiven, because Amelia's inevitable meltdown is so brilliantly written and acted. She has a full-blown psychotic break and goes on a bit of a rampage, first strangling her beloved dog and then going after Sam. The way that Amelia spits out that she wants to bash Sam's head against a brick wall until his brains spill out is awful, and chilling, and darkly comic. The side of her that she does not want to admit exists truly hates Sam, and blames him for taking her husband away from her. And, as it turns out, Sam blames her for the same thing.
The very end of the film is also well done, showing that Amelia has recovered from the worst of her breakdown, but things hardly appear cheery and fun. Sam is preparing for his seventh birthday party, and Amelia gets a visit from Child Services. Sam explains to the two social workers that he doesn't usually have a party on his exact birthday because his father died taking Amelia to the hospital to give birth. A clearer picture begins to form.
Later, Sam and Amelia appear to be gardening, but all they're doing is collecting worms to feed to the dark monster that now lives in their basement. This is when we realize that Amelia goes through this trauma regularly, perhaps on a yearly basis, keeping her monster of pain, and hate, and anger, and illness below the surface, placating it with small offerings and lying to herself that it's all going to be ok without any help. But no shade toward Amelia: it's what we all do with our struggles.
Summary:
The Babadook is a fine modern horror film. If you've never seen it, you should certainly give it a chance. I feel like it might resonate with some people more than others. For me, it's not the greatest entry in the "mental illness is the true terror" subgenre, but it's far from the worst. There's a lot to enjoy, and some particularly good acting. I give it three and a half DOOKs out of five.
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