There have been countless takes on ghost stories since the earliest days of film, and probably storytelling in general. The, ahem, presence of a ghost in a story, though, doesn’t necessarily mean that that story is horror. In Steven Soderbergh’s Presence, the always-innovative director chooses to unravel his take from the point of view of a spectre that haunts a troubled family as they move into a new home. The result is a story that’s a little bit chilling, and which opens a door to an emotion that one rarely feels in ghost stories, horror or not – empathy.
When mom Rebekah (Lucy Liu), dad Chris (Chris Sullivan), and kids Chloe (Callina Liang) and Tyler (Eddy Maday) move into the picturesque home in a desirable neighborhood, it feels as though it’s a solution to their familial problems. Chloe grieves two friends who have recently died under mysterious circumstances. Rebekah has trouble at work that may put the family in legal hot water. And Tyler, clearly his mother’s favourite, is a total asshole. But the new home not only exacerbates the tensions within the family, the haunting spectre floating throughout the house (that only Chloe can detect, at least at first) has an agenda as well.
On a technical level, there’s some remarkable stuff going on from the master auteur. Only a small handful of edits join together a series of long, unbroken shots as our phantom moves through the house, encountering and occasionally interacting with its residents and visitors. There’s excellent narrative discipline at play as well, and we don’t learn anything that our presence wouldn’t learn through observation. Nothing about the film feels cheap, though a conceit like this one could easily open the door to corner-cutting.
On a performance level, each of the cast does a great job of expositing without making it feel like exposition. The observational quality of the film is it’s strongest asset, after all. Both Liu and Maday’s characters could possibly do with a little more subtlety where they come off as almost cartoonish in their words, but that’s more of a script issue. Where Presence falters, though, is when the story drifts into focus, revealing the identity of the ghost and its intentions. For a film that takes such great care to lay out clues to it’s multiple layered mysteries, the reveal seems too-quick and ham-handed. It’s just a little too thin and obvious, even as it cultivates an intriguing empathy for the spectre, which is unusual. You really feel something for our ‘presence’ and have a keen sense that there’s a benevolence behind it.
Ultimately, Presence feels a little too small of a story, a beautifully-executed first two acts that could use a little…more. It’s still Soderbergh, which means it’s nearly impossible for it to disappoint entirely. Still, one could reasonably expect a more developed experience from the veteran director. But there is a kernel of something truly innovative and beautifully executed here, and one that – story issues aside – is worth your presence in a theatre.
Steven Soderbergh’s Presence will be released in theatres in January 2025 from NEON. Presence is an official selection of the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. Check out all of our TIFF coverage here.
