Shooting a movie entirely in the first person—meaning the camera is the character—isn’t an entirely new idea. Dig up the detective tale The Lady in the Lake from 1947 for the first Hollywood example, or stream Ilya Naishuller’s action-packed Hardcore Henry for a more recent spin. There have been more erudite examples—Nickel Boys, a current awards contender from director RaMell Ross, uses the gimmick but trades points-of-view between characters, and most of Gaspar Noé’s Enter the Void is shot this way. Even Orson Welles tried adapting the novel Heart of Darkness as first person cinema before ditching it to make Citizen Kane instead.
Presence, the latest from the prolific auteur Steven Soderbergh, is one of the few to actually make it work, thanks to a simple and effective storytelling trick. The “camera character” is a ghost (or presence, if you prefer) that is hanging around a house—watching and waiting. As such it (and we) can float around without being seen. Also, the decision to be present at any particular moment in time clearly becomes a choice as the narrative unfolds. While the characters are asking “wait, do you sense something?” we in the audience are wondering “why are we seeing this?” It’s really quite innovative.
It takes a while for this all to click, however. For the first chunk of the movie, were it not for the unusual visual approach, it might be hard to find a purpose for this film at all. We observe a family (Lucy Liu is Mom, Chris Sullivan is Dad, Tyler the older brother is Eddy Maday, Chloe the younger sister is Callina Liang) who have moved into a gorgeous old home, but their domestic issues keep them from enjoying the marvelous wooden floors and luxurious banisters.
The elephant in the room, which is teased out slowly, is that Chloe is mourning the recent death of her best pal, who has OD’d. Mom is very business-focused (indeed, she’s clearly got her fingers in some illegal pies) and wants to ignore everything and wait for time to heal all wounds. Besides, she’s really more into her go-getter athlete son. Dad, on the other hand, is more sensitive to his daughter’s needs.
While the performances are top notch and the screenplay by David Koepp (of Jurassic Park and Carlito’s Way fame, but also a recent Soderbergh collaborator with Kimi) is cleverly succinct, the star of the show, at least early on, is how the Steadicam swims through the large rooms of the elegant new house. Up and down the stairs we fly, peeking around corners and out onto the porches—never crossing the threshold, but, as will become more evident, trying to connect in some way.
It’s Chloe who notices the presence at first. Is it her recently deceased friend? Is she trying to warn her about something? When the bumps in the night move beyond the point of coincidence, Dad contacts a medium who comes over to share a little insight into the world of the beyond. (And to make a few bucks, too, which raises red flags for Mom and Tyler.) Presence is a great example of seemingly normal people having to face the fact that they are now in a supernatural horror movie, and have to ignore science and reason for a little while.
Meanwhile, life in the house continues. Chloe has a new boyfriend who seems okay at first (played by West Mulholland, what a Hollywood name!!), Tyler and his friends play a prank on a female student that maybe goes too far, and Mom’s legal shenanigans are causing Dad to make private calls to a lawyer to see how at risk he is if he doesn’t get separated. A typical American family?
Over the course of 90 minutes, the tension builds to a spectacular crescendo, then to a final beat that sent me into full body chills. Not a jump scare, not gore, but a visceral response to Lucy Liu’s performance born from a place of true emotional horror.
I should add that I was lucky enough to see Presence in a screening room with great speakers and fine projection. This is a slow burn, low budget film, and everyone’s threshold for attention is different. I can’t lie and say this would have had the same effect over me if I were on my couch with a world of distractions around me. (I am a slug, I know.)
Steven Soderbergh, who also shot and edited the movie under his noms de guerre Peter Andrews and Mary Ann Bernard, was one of the great early adopters of video, and his (ahem) presence is everywhere. He doesn’t shoot digital to then make it look like film, he leans into the digital hum. With the smooth camerawork (and excellent production design) it makes Presence all the more eerie. It’ll also remind you that if a real estate deal sounds too good to be true, there’s a reason!
Presence is in theaters now.
