Talk to Me ★★½

The rules seem simple: first, shake the hand and say “talk to me” to summon a random spirit, then say “I let you in” to let the spirit take control of your body for no longer than 90 seconds. Where did this hand statue come from? Is it a real hand? What happens if you are possessed for more than 90 seconds? The novel Ouija-esque party game is the starting point from which Aussie brothers Danny and Michael Philippou built out their slick debut directorial feature.  

The Philippou brothers are no strangers to internet fame; their YouTube channel RackaRacka has 6.75 million followers at the time of this review. A brief scroll through their catalog of 150+ video shorts created over the past decade gives a quick sense of their stylistic hallmarks. Many of their shorts feature gory effects, shaky handheld shooting, horror inspiration from the slasher and splatter subgenres, and a strange fascination with fast food mascot Ronald McDonald, who stars in nearly half their videos. However, Talk to Me feels like a concerted effort to break from the juvenile target audience of their viral videos, like how some former Disney stars have oversexualized themselves to fuel their careers into adulthood. Fans of the RackaRacka videos might be disappointed by the lack of scrappy, DIY aesthetics, or any McDonald’s branding in this new feature. Instead, Talk to Me is visually sleek, patient in its pacing, and somber in tone.  

The maturation in direction on display from the Philippou brothers really surprised me, as I naively expected an Evil Dead–inspired, campy and splattery romp given their access to a studio budget. Do not be misled by the late July release date of the film. Though it is the height of summer heat in America, the film has a cool, muted color palette and explores how young people alienate each other and struggle to connect with their families. After all, July is the middle of winter in Australia. I think it would be fair to place Talk to Me under the moniker of “elevated horror,” which has become synonymous with spooky movies released by A24, the film’s U.S. distributor. 

The narrative starts with a strong opening scene at a house party, which immerses viewers in a realistic depiction of young people’s social lives. Following this, the story picks up with protagonist Mia (Sophia Wilde) and her father on the second anniversary of her mother’s death. Over a couple of days, Mia and her high school-aged stepsiblings Riley (Joe Bird) and Jade (Alexandra Jensen) socialize and experiment with the possessed hand, despite severe consequences. All the kids give grounded performances, where certain party scenes feel natural to the point that I as a viewer felt like part of the hangout. Nearly all of the central cast members are given the writing credit “based on a concept by,” implying a communal effort on the character development front. The natural charm and charisma of the actors’ Australian accents and casual banter help create a steady, anxious build-up in the first half. As the film gets darker in its second half this charm lessens a bit, revealing how some characters lack depth and feel extraneous.

The teens in Mia’s cohort frequently whip out their cell phones to capture the perfect Snapchat clips of the ghost possession games, which go viral at their school. The use of social media impressed me with its authenticity, as Hollywood films will too often show viewership numbers skyrocket at impossible rates to demonstrate increasing popularity. Considering the Philippous’ acumen with social media platforms, particularly YouTube, their crossover to feature filmmaking brings with it some key insights about the dynamics of social media in young people’s everyday life. Herein lies the central exploration of Talk to Me: the film’s title carries an ironic sting since none of the characters will openly talk about their struggles with their peers or parents – they would rather talk to ghosts. Mia struggles to reconcile with the death of her mother. When given the opportunity to commune with dead people, she finds hope that might help assuage her feelings of confusion, trauma, and guilt.  

Early on, the film emphasizes another irony that some people may constantly be on their phones but are still hard to contact. This applies both literally in terms of not answering calls, as well as being mentally walled off from those around them. Miranda Otto also stars in the film as Mia’s stepmom. While being friendly with the kids, their generational divide presents obstacles, highlighting the struggle parents today might have when attempting to adapt to all the technology associated with kids’ communication. These struggles, and lack of transparent, real-life conversations, give rise to an inherent distrust. With all the layers of media involved in communications today, it can be hard to decipher the intent behind someone’s words, and even harder to believe they are being genuine. 
Talk to Me toys around with its possessed hand game premise and commentary on distrust and isolation. Some visually stimulating sequences near the end of the film tease various directions for the story to wrap up, but as the twists pile up the ending becomes a bit muddled. That said, the film represents a huge step up in production from any of the Philippou brothers’ YouTube short films in all regards. Everything from the shadowy lighting to the slick camera movements exudes professionalism and strong control over style. The characters’ interactions and dynamics are poignant, and the performances are believable. Following in step with the trends of modern horror, Talk to Me turns within to investigate the coldness of digital communication that causes widespread feelings of alienation and depression in today’s society. This commentary is poignant and embedded naturally into the dialogue and performances, yet by its whirlwind ending, Talk to Me steers away from the thing I hoped to see most – fun.