Veronika Franz and Severin Fialas much feted psychological horror film made its debut in their home country of Austria in January 2015, in the USA in September, and will finally receive a UK release in March this year. Since the online release of the genuinely creepy trailer, the movie has increasingly had the baggage of a lot of expectation to live up to so its a relief to report that it more than lives up to the hype. Set in an austere, modern and contemporarily angled house in a remote location completely different to the haunted mansions and cabins in the woods that make up the usual setting for isolation horror, the film is shot and the story told from the point of view of two nine-year-old twins whose mother (no father ever appears, and none is necessary) has just returned to convalesce from some terribly invasive cosmetic procedure to her face. But is it really their mother underneath those heavy bandages? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kXpUaQpXMA Goodnight Mommy is a story about deep bruising, about lasting damage and about the too-distant possibility of recovery: the mothers wrapped, bloodshot face a skeletal corollary to this running theme. Far too many reviews have given away the supposed twist in the tale, intentionally or not, but this isnt a trip you make to arrive at an unexpected destination. Rather, its one you set out on expecting one thing, only to realise that the process of getting there will be far more nerve-wracking than you first thought: the car is on fire, and theres no driver at the wheel. Franz and Fiala have created a spectrally unnerving, elegant chiller that ratchets up the dread until the anticipated finale where youre wrongfooted, not by events but by tone. The predictable twist has the entirely unexpected effect of transforming the movie youve just seen. Youre blindsided, not by the expected chicane in the narrative, but by an unlooked for bump in the road. Seen through this new lense, the ending of Goodnight Mommy is desperately, hauntingly sad, the final shot a resonant resolution of sorts.
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.
