So this family moves into a haunted house…. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. I know that sentence sounds like the setup for a dad joke or the synopsis of countless horror movies. So when I tell you that’s also the premise behind Presence, why wouldn’t you expect another boilerplate haunted house film. But if you look past Presence’s cliché premise it will surprise you with how it breathes life into this creaky old genre.
The key ingredient separating Presence from a sea of derivative haunted house films is its one-of-a-kind director, Steven Soderbergh. Soderbergh was at the vanguard of the ‘90s indie film boom along with other big names like Quentin Tarantino, Richard Linklater, and Robert Rodriguez. And what separates him from his contemporaries is his insatiable desire to push filmmaking’s boundaries. Time and again he’s evolved his skillset by stepping outside his comfort zone; shooting feature films on iPhones to producing interactive miniseries.
Soderbergh is less interested in big box office returns than big ideas. So when he decides to make a haunted house movie, you can bet it’s going to reflect his unique interests.
Presence breaks from tradition and kicks off with someone running into the haunted house. Cece (Julia Fox), a flustered real estate agent rushes inside moments before the first set of potential buyers arrive.
Wife and husband Rebekah (Lucy Liu) and Chris (Chris Sullivan) instantly know the house is too good a deal to pass up. It’s affordable, in great condition, and near a top school for their teenagers, Tyler (Eddy Maday) and Chloe (Callina Liang) to attend. So alpha mom Rebekah decides to snap up the property right on the spot.
But this is a haunted house movie, and their dream home is too good to be true. Odd things start happening right away. A creeped-out painter refuses to enter one of the rooms, things move around on their own, and Chloe can somehow sense an invisible presence.
This family may live under the same roof, but they may as well be worlds apart because of how out of tune they are. So Rebekah, Chris, and Tyler dismiss Chloe’s weird feelings, attributing them to her grief over her closest friend’s death. But as the paranormal activity ramps up, the family can no longer deny what’s happening. They’re suddenly forced to wrestle with what this presence wants and whether it’s a harbinger of something much worse.
What sets Presence apart from other haunting movies is that it’s told from the spectre’s point of view. You experience the film through its eyes, without seeing it or knowing what it’s thinking. What unfolds is a slow-burn mystery thriller that leans into supernatural horror clichés.
Soderbergh combines the blunt, hammy dialogue of trashy horror flicks, with the sweeping score of a melodrama. This intriguing audio-visual dichotomy creates a story that feels small and intimate as a Noah Baumbach drama one moment, yet punctuated with signature haunted house moments found in Tobe Hooper’s Poltergeist.
The best ghost stories and monster movies use the otherworldly as a metaphor for disturbing real-world truths. For example, It Follows uses an unstoppable monster to symbolize the inevitability of death. Similarly, Presence tells a ghost story that’s about so much more than a ghost.
There’s a reason this film is called Presence and not The Presence. This family’s issues existed well before their run-in with the paranormal. Their problems stem from their lack of presence and inability to connect with each other in meaningful ways. Like any ghost story worth its salt, this is a tale about the living, examining our vital need for connection, and the suffering and self-doubt inflicted on the unheard.
Rebekah, Chris, Tyler, and Chloe may look like an all-American family, but they lead messy lives behind closed doors. Rebekah shows a clear preference towards one of her kids, Tyler is a self-absorbed bully, and Chris’s loveless marriage is slowly eroding his soul. Soderbergh paints a haunting portrait of an American family who shares a physical space yet lacks intimacy.
As much as I enjoyed Presence, it’s not an obvious film to recommend to most of the people in my life. It’s not the type of ghost story that mainstream audiences expect. It’s not an inscrutable indie film either, and it definitely skews closer to the former.
Presence is a pulpy thriller told through an unconventional style that some may find off-putting. If you can get past the unusual approach, the film delivers a satisfying blend of drama and intrigue. It’s also a ghost story that won’t frighten people who scare easily since it doesn’t rely on jump scares or dread-filled setpieces to hold your attention.
Above all, Soderbergh conjured up this supernatural tale to engage his audience in a timely conversation. Presence reminds us how spooks and spectres may creep people out, but nothing will haunt you like the regret of not being present for your loved ones when they need you the most.
