Presence (15)

While the horror genre seems to be enjoying something of a resurgence within the film industry over the last few years, stories concerning ghosts are one theme that’s possibly had the least attention. Apart from The Conjuring franchise – which spawned the Annabelle and Nun films – the only other recent feature released in cinemas that was about something which went ‘bump in the night’ was the excellent The Night House (2020). However, spectres are now back again thanks to American auteur director Steven Soderbergh who’s come out of retirement once more with a new type of haunted house tale in the form of Presence.

This latest spook-based feature focuses on a family that have just moved into a large house which seems to come with its own live-in poltergeist. Said family comprise of busy husband and wife Rebecca and Chris (Lucy Liu and Chris Sullivan) elder brother Tyler (Eddy Maday), and younger sister Chloe (Callina Liang). Fairly early on you realise that this family is under some amount of strain, due in part because of some work-related financial fraud involving Rebecca, but also from Chloe’s trauma following the death of a close school friend. If this wasn’t enough, this dysfunctional family soon come to realise that their new home has some spirit moving around the house.

For anyone who’s familiar with Soderbergh’s extensive filmography, it will come as no surprise to find out that this isn’t your run-of-the-mill haunted house movie. For one thing, it’s not really a horror; if you had to put a label on it, the closest description would be that of a family drama with a supernatural edge to it. Yes, there are times the film is kind of creepy, but by and large, the family story looms large here, with the ghostly element floating around the edges.

Secondly, what makes this stand out from other similar types of genre films is that the entire narrative structure is presented from the presence’s point of view. So, from the very first frame to the last, the camera is roaming around the house from bedroom to living room, wardrobe to kitchen; whatever its origin it seems trapped inside the property: its only view of the outside is when it looks through a window. While the creeping camera all helps to create an unsettling atmosphere, this original storytelling device – coupled with effective editing – also makes for a clever way to relay notable parts of the story by acting as a kind of unseen nosy fifth family member; treating its audience to the latest juicy development as it enters midway through a scene just as something interesting happens.

Joining Soderbergh behind the camera for a second time, following the excellent thriller Kimi (2022), is the equally prolific screenwriter David Koepp. His screenplay leaves just enough room for the drama to unfold without relying too heavily on the ghost’s POV – something which could have ended up being too gimmicky and pulling you out of the story.
What the viewer ends up with instead is a (for the most part) nicely balanced series of scenes that, together with the editing and score, all make for an increasingly unsettling film as certain plot points become apparent during the tight 85-minute runtime.

American composer Zack Ryan adds something of a moody, traditional orchestral score that fills the film with plenty of dread-inducing strings and piano. As good as this is on its own merits, this atmospheric soundtrack is utilised even more effectively with the way its edited to certain screen cuts that jump to a black screen for a few seconds. Sometimes, the music continues, other times it doesn’t; the end result makes for a subtle yet consistently alarming soundscape.

Aside from the film’s technical merits, the acting throughout is strong – particularly from Lucy Liu and relative newcomer Callina Liang. Liu takes what is essentially an unlikeable character due to her apparent disproportionate level of affection for the children, as well as that ‘work thing’, and yet still gives her a level of vulnerability and empathy that leads to you feeling conflicted towards her as the film’s story moves into an altogether darker territory. Liang, though, is the star performer here. Her grief-stricken Chloe, who’s clearly sensitive to the supernatural resident, gives some much-needed dramatic heft to the proceedings. Her portrayal is never showy or over the top, yet still somehow leaves an impression.

Taking all of this into consideration, at the end of the day, your own personal viewing experience will largely rely on how much you buy into the ghost POV style that, for me anyway, is pretty much one of the film’s most interesting factors at play here. Yes, the acting is very good, but at times the script’s handling of characters is too clumsy to make everything come together quite as well as it perhaps could have; the family dynamics on view throughout occasionally come across as forced and, ultimately, lack believability. Where the story ends up may also feel a little off-kilter to what’s gone before, but it certainly makes for a thrilling conclusion that’s executed with skill and precision which, coming from Soderbergh, is not unexpected.

Talking of which, full credit has to be given to the director here. For not only has he managed to take a tiny $2million budget and direct something interesting and stylistically original, he also performed cinematography and editing duties too with his usual level of expertise. So, while the screenplay may falter at times, the level of craft on display does a lot of the heavy lifting here and leaves this supernaturally-infused thriller with some level of watchability that other lesser filmmakers would have struggled with.

PRESENCE (2025)