The Babadook: Things That Go Bump in the Cinema

After watching Lars von Trier’s Dancer in the Dark, Jennifer Kent wrote the director an email expressing her willingness to learn from him. At one point, she explains that she would rather stick pins into her eyeballs than go to film school. She must’ve said something right, because he replied with an invitation to his Dogville set. The idea was to let her watch and learn, and let me assure you, watch and learn she did.

The young Australian’s feature film debut, The Babadook, is the horror film of the year and probably the best horror film to come out since Let the Right One In. Now, that may not be saying much since the horror genre hasn’t been all that impressive lately, but it really is a rather brilliant film. Here’s a horror film that strays away from cheap thrills, and taps into something real; true human fear, grief, anxiety, and depression.

If you watch the trailers, you will most probably write it off as just another run-of-the-mill Boogeyman film. At least, this is how I felt when I first encountered the trailers, but then all the five-star reviews started rolling in and I had to give the film a shot. I remember walking out of the cinema with mixed feelings. However, the more I thought of The Babadook, the deeper it sank into my psyche. The Babadook is knitted from the same cloth as the greatest horror films of all time, from Rosemary’s Baby to The Shining. It scares you long after you’ve walked out of the theatre; it lingers in your thoughts and crawls under your skin. You won’t be able to shake off the unnerving feeling this film gives you for days after the initial viewing. That said, it does require thought and analysis, and it is only after you attempt to understand what it all means that’ll start haunting you.

Essie Davis delivers one of the strongest lead performances of the year as a widow haunted by the memory of her husband, who died in an accident on their way to the hospital to deliver their baby. The story begins years later. Amelia is constantly stressed out and exhausted. Most of her time is spent looking after a kid “with significant behavioural problems.” The troubled boy is also relentless in his fantasy; a monster he believes will eat his mother from the inside out.

Amelia skims through clips of silent George Melies shorts late at night on her living room TV. Melies is a filmmaker who believed filmmakers are like magicians performing a grand illusion to audiences using cinematic tools. Magic is a big theme in The Babadook, and the whole film feels like it’s one huge magic trick. At first, Kent tricks us into thinking we’re about to watch a film about a problematic disturbed child who has access to another demonic dimension, but as soon as the Babadook creeps into their home, we begin to suspect that the problem isn’t with the child, but rather the mum. The final reveal will have many scratching their heads wondering what they’ve just seen and more importantly what it all means.

The deeply disturbing demonic figure known as the Babadook erupts into their lives around the anniversary of her husband’s death, which coincides with her son’s birthday. The reading of an old children’s pop-up book titled Mister Babadook is what essentially unleashes hell upon them. The book is brilliantly designed with disturbing illustrations clearly influenced by German Expressionism. In fact, the creature resembles a character you’d see in Nosfertu or The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Kent is well-versed in the roots of the horror genre; she knows her films proudly with her references up her sleeves. It kind of gives her film historic weight.