Editorials
How Steven Soderbergh’s ‘Presence’ Is the Reverse ‘Paranormal Activity’
Steven Soderbergh’s stripped down ghost story, ‘Presence,’ is an impressive evolution and subversion of the popular low-budget found-footage ghost trend.
“My boy…he came back to save you.”
Ghost stories and poltergeists are such a fascinating horror subgenre that have the power to really connect and get under the audience’s skin in a way that’s not possible with other monsters. The idea of an unfulfilled spirit that can’t – or won’t – move on is easier for many people to buy into than zombies, vampires, or a living doll. Ghosts exist out of time and have the potential to know everything, but also nothing. It’s a poetically beautiful tragedy that makes ghosts such rich – and misunderstood – material for horror movies.
There’s a certain power to ghost movies and how they operate as the ultimate voyeur stories, especially when the spirit and the camera become one. Ghost movies can also be incredibly accessible territory for fresh filmmakers to explore, like Oren Peli’s seismic Paranormal Activity, which reinvigorated the found-footage genre just as much as it put ghosts back on the map. Their restrained, less is more approach allows the imagination to run wild and deliver huge scares and palpable tension.
The horror genre has been eager for more of this experimentation, especially when it’s successfully done, which is why it’s so exciting to see someone like Steven Soderbergh knock it out of the park. Soderbergh has turned out some of his strongest films ever since his “retirement” and the latest act of his career. Soderbergh brings a degree of technical mastery to everything that he does, which in Presence’s case, results in the perfect unofficial Paranormal Activity sequel.
Presence is effective as an unofficial Paranormal Activity sequel. In fact, it functions like a “Reverse Paranormal Activity” where the audience watches from the ghost’s perspective instead of watching for the ghost. It’s a minor difference, but one that completely changes the film’s tone and trajectory in a way that’s infinitely creepier. Films like Paranormal Activity benefit from their attempts to get the audience in the afflicted family’s head. Presence still accomplishes this, despite the audience being forced to experience this bleak story through a spirit’s point of view.
In terms of plotting, Presence doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel. It does the same thing that dozens of other ghost stories do, but that’s part of the film’s impact and charm. Presence follows the Payne family – Rebekah (Lucy Liu), Chris (Chris Sullivan), their youngest daughter, Chloe (Callina Liang), and her older brother, Tyler (Eddy Maday) – who move into a new house in the suburbs and begin to worry that they’re not alone. Presence presents itself as a typical ghost story – right down to the Paynes’ traditional nuclear family breakdown – only to prove that it’s anything but. The film is told entirely through first-person perspective long takes and there is technically “no editing” beyond the periodic black-outs that are used to reset the slate.
These black-outs are expertly utilized here because they capture the sprawling nature of a limitless entity. It gives the haunting impression that the “Presence,” or really any ghost, experiences existence as a collection of fugue states. It’s as if each setup in Presence is the ghost respawning somewhere new as he flitters in and out of existence without a proper tether. This adds such an interesting psychology to the film’s camera-work and how its central entity operates. This ghost is confined to the Payne’s household and patrols the same zones until he encounters something familiar. The camera is anchored to these individuals, but there’s still an impossible nature to some of the setups and how scenes are explored. It’s a uniquely fun experience to stumble into and it helps keep Presence unpredictable.
Paranormal Activity also features a vignette-driven formula where creative cinematography does a lot of the heavy lifting. These setups are often static in Paranormal Activity as they attempt to capture evidence of this supernatural threat. Alternatively, the camera in Presence is always moving and rarely stationary. It’s a living entity that is proof of the paranormal. It’s the evolution of what’s being explored in Paranormal Activity. This is such a creative way to tell a story and there are several scenes that begin far away from the action and the guiding Presence is left to follow echoes of voices and navigate his way to the drama. In some respects, the camera is often playing catch-up in Presence, which is part of the fun and another way in which it does the inverse of Paranormal Activity.
The entity’s timeless nature also means that he’s sometimes early to major events and left to reckon with where he is exactly in time. It’s a disorienting tactic that isn’t abused and becomes more prominent as Presence continues. It’s yet another way in which the film is one of the most meticulous and ambitious lo-fi ghost stories. The Paranormal Activity franchise also dips its toe into time travel and the idea that ghosts experience all time at once and in a non-linear fashion. They’re given a certain power to change the past – or present – in order to influence the future, whether it’s for better or for worse.
Another way in which Presence flips the standard Paranormal Activity setup on its head is that it presents a human – Ryan Caldwell’s West Mulholland – as its monster and the source of fear. Presence’s ghost isn’t a threat and it actually becomes the figure who helps save the day and become the hero. It’s a celebration – not condemnation – of the “other.” There’s a scene between Ryan and Chloe that’s so rough, uncomfortable, and as intense as any monster attack or serial killer massacre. It’s such a naturalistic and detached moment. Paranormal Activity is undeniably scarier than Presence, but Presence is more harrowing when it comes to the eternal karmic pain that ripples through existence, which is more chilling than any of the consequences seen in Paranormal Activity.
Presence is hardly the only low-budget, high-concept ghost arthouse film. It certainly plays in the same space as David Lowery’s melancholy A Ghost Story and Olivier Assayas’ grief-laden Personal Shopper. Presence really refines a strong story and human elements that make the film hit harder on rewatches. This culminates in a frightening, tense climax, but the movie is more concerned about storytelling and character arcs than tacit fears and constructing scares. This is understood by screenwriter, David Koepp, who is no stranger to ghost stories. Koepp has an enviable filmography that spans 35 years, where he’s been the go-to screenwriter for Steven Spielberg, Robert Zemeckis, and Brian De Palma. Presence isn’t Koepp’s first collaboration with Soderbergh (that would be the equally-economical Kimi), but it marks some of their most powerful work together.
It’s been exciting to see an ongoing trend of minimalist found-footage horror thrillers like Lake Mungo, Hell House LLC, The Taking of Deborah Logan, and the [REC], V/H/S, and Bad Ben series, even if they don’t all explicitly deal with ghosts. Many of these movies are at least responses to the fuse that was set ablaze by Paranormal Activity. Soderbergh doesn’t need to play in this restrained space, but he’s a filmmaker who relishes a good challenge. Presence’s scant two million dollar budget is still considerably higher than what the original Paranormal Activity (and Blair Witch Project) were working with, but it’s below Paranormal Activity 2’s three million dollar budget. Soderbergh keeps things even simpler, but hits even greater heights. In the end, he conjures the same energy as other low-budget found-footage horror that focus on families under duress, such as Megan is Missing, M.O.M. Mother of Monsters, and The Poughkeepsie Tapes. Soderbergh proves himself in this stripped down exercise – like the iPhone 7 Plus-shot Unsane (which had an even smaller budget of $1.5 million) – that allows him to refine his craft and skills as a filmmaker.
This minimalist cinematography and storytelling is such a delight when it keys into the right elements. It’s what sustained the Paranormal Activity franchise for six films — seven if you count the non-poltergeist-related Paranormal Activity: Next of Kin — but Presence strives for more. The Paranormal Activity franchise — and many of these found-footage ghost stories — are centered around eerie setpieces. The biggest downfall with these films is that they often lack compelling characters, which make or break a movie of this nature. Fans started to tune out the movies because of their increasingly convoluted lore, but also because each film’s new characters failed to connect. Presence is full of creepy scenes and sweeping cinematography, but it’s first and foremost interested in its characters and their relationships. By the end, the audience truly cares and doesn’t want to see anyone perish from these poltergeists. The Payne family becomes the beating heart of the story and it’s as much of a delicate character study as it is a horror movie.
Paranormal Activity is dark, nihilistic, and perpetuates a neverending cycle of abuse that’s already lasted for generations. Alternatively, Presence reinforces the opposite. Legacy is preserved and saved, so that new life is possible and this family can thrive and prosper, rather than shrivel or be co-opted by something evil. Presence reinforces a happy ending and a world where good can triumph, even if there are casualties along the way. Paranormal Activity and Presence both leave the audience stunned by the time that the credits start to roll, but for completely different reasons.
Soderbergh’s Presence is such a rejuvenating genre gem that hopefully pushes more auteurs to strip down their skills and see what they can do in this framework. It’s a creative way for filmmakers to challenge each other, like what Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez did in Grindhouse and Four Rooms. Or what Sion Sono, Hideo Nakata, and various other directors attempted with their “Roman Porno” reboot. Every director, after a few years, should have to return to the basics and get hungry again, like what Soderbergh does in Presence. It’s a film that wouldn’t be nearly as interesting with a glossier coat of paint, bigger budget, and overproduced setpieces. Someone like Soderbergh takes a two million dollar budget and makes it exciting and creatively inspiring instead of stifling. He doesn’t need to resort to such barebones filmmaking, but it’s absolutely the right approach for this particular story and the raw way that it plays out.
Presence is now available on VOD and comes to 4K & Blu-ray on May 20.
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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