Talk to Me Review: Greet the Spirit World by Saying “Talk to me.”

Forget the Ouija board. With Talk to Me, a creepy new conduit for channelizing the nothingness has come into play.

It all begins with a ceramic hand that’s eerily naturalistic . The stories of its origins are varied, but all disturbing in the way of juicy civic legend. The game attached to this cryptic branch is simple Hold its cold fritters in yours. Light a candle. Surrender your body by saying,” I let you in.” You have opened a door to the dead. You’ll be held. Blow that candle out before 90 seconds passes or differently.

All hell can break loose in the” or differently.” In their point debut, binary YouTubers turnedco-directors Danny and Michael Philippou( aka RackaRacka) stink cult into their distinctive hellscape with a tightly knit tale of teen rejects and some astronomically sick practical goods.

What is Talk to Me about?

Zoe Terakes poses before the haunted hand in” Talk to Me.”
Written by Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman, this Australian horror immolation centers on Mia( Sophie Wilde), a grieving teen empty for connection in the wake of her mama ‘s death. A wall of silence has grown between her and her father. Her stylish friend, Jade( Alexandra Jensen), while pious, has been detracted by a new swain( Otis Dhanji). So, when possession parties pop up promising the thrall of escape, Mia’s maybe overeager to bound into the unknown. At first, it’s all delightful and crooked games. But when the game goes on too long, Jade’s sweet little family Riley( Joe Bird) pays a horrible price. While his fearsome mama ( Miranda Otto) quests for easy answers, Mia and her friend must look into the ocean of limbo to pull Riley back from it.

Within this setup, the Philippous have ample space to spasm in grief, teen angst, and sexual fear. The spirits who catch the teen’s bodies are frequently of the ferociously wanton or outrageous variety, giddy to spout worrisome pitfalls or perform a kinky act with a shellacking canine or some naked toes. These bouts of unnerving action are exhilarating. Part of this success belongs to the players — both the teen actors playing held and the fruity fiends revealed by the hand. But the commanding brace deserves praise for keeping their central conceit not only creepy, but also trickling with ick.

Talk to Me’s practical goods will make you scream and monkeyshine.

Joe Bird gets held in” Talk to Me.”
The ceramic hand is a suitably spooky handshake to introduce Talk to Me’s world of minatory spirits. From there, the players chuck their bodies back violently in the president, as if the rush of the spirit into their form has a violent physical drive. The camera lashes up with them, plunging cult into the exhilaration of the rush by chasing the thrown- back head and spooked expression. Large dark connections make the pupils of the held’s eyes feel alien. Their faces drain of color, turning a puckering pale blue, as the blood flees from their jejune cheeks. But this is just the look of excursionists in the torturous realm of limbo.

The spirits themselves come in colorful genders, periods, and appearances, but generally, they all partake a certain gloppiness. They’re bedecked with bruises, blue skin, oozing dark corrosiveness. Some have fingernails broken as if they’d been clawing at a unrestricted pall lid. Others are bloated as if they’d drowned and been lost in the drift. All retain a gyroplane, candescent luster of — god only knows — snob? Ectoplasm? Drool? These vicious ghosts race across apartments or flutter out of dark corners, and you might well get lost in their crazed details, indeed as you jolt at their dread tactics. Sharp cuts add oomph to the intrusions, making the ghosts appear and evaporate in a blink of an eye. Of course, formerly Mia sees them, we know they are always near — visible or not — and always pining the touch of a warm hand and the call of the night. In this way, suspension stews indeed when there are no fiends to be seen.

An portentous score sends jitters as the spirits break the boundaries of the game, intruding into Mia’s life day and night. As the movie is concentrated on her experience, the directors bind us to her way of seeing the world. Every dark corner, every strange noise might be a misplaced soul screaming for attention. But having broken the rules of the game, Mia is, along with us, at a loss as to what could be now. The Philippous carouse in pitching us all into panicked battles — physical, cerebral, and potentially cataclysmal . It’s all crooked fun.

Talk to Me stands among teen horror by keeping it real.

Teenagers gather for a seance party in” Talk to Me.”
These are not the devastatingly sharp teens of 2000s plant horror, though Talk to Me manages a also satiny luster to its product. These Aussie youths are agonized not only by poltergeists, but also by bad hair days, minced nail polish, clumsy flirtations, and a painful need to fit in. Wilde channels Mia’s despair for acceptance in a engaging performance, made up of stolen ganders, wry grins, and caricature- rattling riots. The other teens match her, offering performances more predicated and gritty than the waifish and rustic or glamorously theatrical that Hollywood horror tends to turn out. But it’s the mama who truly stands out.

In teen- centered horror, parents are frequently sidelined or effectively absent to the tortured teens and whatever evil stalks them. In Talk to Me, Otto plays the kind of mama who demands absolute honesty from her kiddies and gives it back, easily stating her prospects and rules before leaving them home alone. But it will not be enough to save them from horror. Her rage over that slices through the film’s alternate half, creating a heart- wrenching handicap to Mia’s plan to save Riley. Naturally, what mama would let this bad influence near her cherished and battered boy after what happed last time?

While Wilde must shoulder the emotional liar, and does so with aplomb, Otto plays a mama so real that it makes the movie’s most outrageous bits feel authentic, bound by this line of recognizable maternal intensity.

Thrillingly, Talk to Me is not all darkness. And that is part of its power.

Sophie Wilde gets raw in” Talk to Me.”
It can be easy to part ourselves from the plight of numerous a horror promoter. We tell ourselves we would noway act the way they do. We wouldn’t play with the easily evil toy. We wouldn’t trust the smirking sightseer. We wouldn’t climb a altitudinous, teetering pole for online leverage. But Talk to Me diffuses this distancing judgment by taking the time to delight the fun before the fear.

After the rules of the game are introduced, the Philippou sisters let loose on a kinetic montage, intercutting the effects of the partying teens. Though scary, this metaphysical disquisition feels like a party, the kind where you might act reckless, exposing your immature — and presumably insurmountable — bodies to coitus, medicines, alcohol or ghosts. Indeed, the act of being held is treated as if it’s doing a shot, or a medicine trip — a succulent dare to prove yourself and entertain those who look on. Mia and her musketeers eat up the chance. And indeed as effects get gross, it’s easy to connect to the vicarious exhilaration of it all. There’s glory in the stupid ingenuousness of youth. That roistering makes the turn to violence — implacable and inexplainable all the more harrowing. Because moments before, were not we having fun? The speed at which it slips through our fritters is each too real and shocking.

In the end, Talk to Me is a terrifically scary horror movie, thanks to important performances, creepy critter designs, a splash of blood and spear, and practical goods that’ll blow your mind and chill your chine. Like its family in Sundance 2023’s Night slate, Birth/ revitalization, Talk to Me is the rare horror trip that knows just when to end with a wallop.

still, be sure to reach out and touch this one, If you are looking for some freaky shocking fun.

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