The Babadook is called one of the scariest horror films in recent memory because it isn’t a movie about a monster. Instead, it’s about a mother.
Yet before you start pulling out your comparison sheets to draw parallels to a peak-era Michael Douglas sexual thriller about a “dangerous” female protagonist, some context is in order. The Babadook, a feature-length expansion of actress Jennifer Kent’s short film, Monster, tells the story of a woman named Amelia (Essie Davis) who is still reeling from the passing of her husband, who died while driving her to the hospital to deliver their son, Samuel (Noah Wiseman). Not fully mentally prepared to be a single mother, Amelia nonetheless does all she can to give the imaginative Samuel everything she can, even though he’s a bit outspoken and trains to hunt imaginary monsters only he can see.
At one point, he brings homemade weapons to school, leading to him being expelled. All the while, Amelia buffs passes from a nursing home co-worker while trying to keep it all together, her frustration with Samuel’s reckless behavior becoming so much that her sanity begins to slowly slip.
Much like one of the other truly great horror films of the past 20 years, such as Neil Marshall’s The Descent, The Babadook wastes little time in letting the audience know that they’re in for a serious ride, one that doesn’t pull any punches or play with cheap shock effects (fun fact: both open with car crashes). Kent knows that great horror films work because they prioritize atmosphere over jump scares.
Even more than that, she knows that great horror films aren’t really about scary monsters and super freaks. Much like an actor with bad training, playing the intention of “I’m making a horror film” is an insipid way to make a creative work; aiming more for the end effect than creating actual substance fails to recognize that audiences aren’t gore-loving sheeple. They show up because of neatly executed premises. Unique twists and bold choices will always play better than cookie-cutter horror tropes lined up for their predictable, inevitable slaughter.
Thus (spoiler warning), after Amelia reads Samuel a new book that has suddenly appeared in his room called “The Babadook”, he appropriately starts freaking out, deathly afraid of the titular beast and suddenly causing even more of a ruckus with Amelia’s friends, who are genuinely disturbed by the fact that this maturing little boy still believes in monsters. Yet even Amelia starts freaking out, seeing things on her own and losing her grip on reality as her son dives deeper into his fear.
Although many frightening events happen and stylish, brooding set pieces land with harrowing effect, once it’s all over, the audience is left wondering whether the Babadook was actually real. Was the monster instead a manifestation of all the resentment Amelia had built up over the years towards her son, never acknowledging them until he pushes her to her absolute breaking point? Especially with the film’s far-too-gleeful last two minutes, these questions require some time to sink in.
By the time the credits roll, one almost wishes Kent and crew had drawn a clearer distinction, but ultimately, the ever-questioning nature of The Babadook keeps audiences on edge, genuinely unsure what will happen next. To help create the monster, Kent uses almost nothing but practical effects. However, Kent sometimes shows the Babadook’s actual face a bit too often, which tempers the mystique the rest of the film builds so brilliantly.
Yet such a quibble like that is minor in the grand scale of things; when things take a turn for the terrifying, fewer prospects are as unnerving as Amelia’s own personal transformation into a monster, both in overt ways (manically hunting down Samuel with a kitchen knife) and in the subtle (echoing the Babadook’s rhyme scheme of “baba-dook-dook-dook”, she at one point tells Samuel she’s sick of his “talk-talk-talking”, a clever wink that almost flies completely under the radar).
As spooky as the film is, none of it would matter if we couldn’t believe the lead characters, and to that end, Davis and Wiseman deliver in absolute spades. Wiseman comes off as a completely believable overenthusiastic boy, convinced of terrors only he can see. Davis beautifully crafts an arc for a woman who slowly and reluctantly realizes the resentment she has been building toward her own son. Her anger pokes out at unexpected times and in brutal ways. Her paranoia is excellently reflected through the direction and production design (note all the times when she “sees” shapes of the Babadook in the real world), but the film’s weight rests on Davis’ face. In a more perfect world, there would have been more award-season buzz around her performance.
While The Babadook remains an excellent, if not necessarily generation-defining, horror flick, the extras on the lavishly designed DVD set feel remarkably slight. Although the inclusion of the bare-bones short Monster shows a lot of promise — even though the concept is much more vague — it makes for a fascinating portrait of a filmmaker continuing her journey, not to mention a delightful curiosity for fans.
Featurettes on building the main house and designing the actual Babadook book provide insight, but added-on B-roll footage and a rather stupid short showing Amelia bounding up stairs via wire work feel pointless and unnecessary. Although interviews with the rest of the cast are more than serviceable, an entire unedited hour-long segment of talking heads is, assuredly, a test of anyone’s patience.
That being said, The Babadook does so many things right that sniping at its smaller flaws is unnecessary. Horror fans are a rare breed, and they know great cinema when they see it. The Babadook doesn’t twist many conventions, but its crystal-clear execution and attention to what truly terrifies people put it a cut above the rest. You may find the monster scary, but The Babadook‘s biggest shock is that it may not be the monster we should truly fear.