Holly has a really bad day in Dean Kapsalis’ stunning debut feature that paints a crippling picture of mental illness and isolation.

“Please look at me…”

Horror and danger don’t always come from scary places. Sure, you should probably be on high alert if you’re ever in a haunted house, abandoned amusement park, or creepy hospital, but even greater terrors are elsewhere. The Swerve is a movie that patiently, carefully explores how comforts like domestic life or a suburban home can be the source of overwhelming darkness even more so than something that looks obviously evil or intimidating. The Swerve is a moving film about how even safe places can have a dark side to them. They may not always present themselves, but when they do, the effects can be seismic. Sometimes all it takes is one really bad day to push someone past their breaking point.

The Swerve chronicles the slow breakdown of a thoughtful, caring mother in an agonizing, gradual descent. It’s an emotional film that’s interested in the idea of how something as insignificant as a mouse can trigger a whole universe of side effects or emotions that tear down your carefully constructed world. Azura Skye‘s work here as Holly is a performance for the ages and The Swerve is worth seeing just for her transformation. She truly commits 100% of her essence to this pained role.

It’s important to note that Holly begins the film in an already haggard, worn out place. She’s not happy with her life, but then things only get worse and start to chip away at her fragile existence. It’s crushing to see how ambivalent Holly’s family is towards her and that they almost act as if she’s invisible. Even without any of the more grandiose aspects of the film, the pained dynamic in their home is still a lot to endure. It’s honestly uncomfortable to just see everyone heap negativity on her—especially Holly’s sister—as she just tries to be cordial and keep the peace. The film really makes you feel for Holly, even before everything goes nuts. It’s a tightrope walk of a performance.

The Swerve is such a deeply human story at its core about wanting to feel wanted and appreciated. It’s amazing how the film purely highlights Holly’s pain while not simultaneously objectifying her or giving in to the typical trappings of cinema. You feel for Holly, but if anything the way in which she’s shot and the film’s cinematography further distances her from you, just like the rest of the people in her life. All of this demonstrates tremendous talent and restraint from director Dean Kapsalis. This is Kapsalis’ debut feature, but The Swerve feels incredibly polished and it’s clear that there’s already a well established cinematic voice here. Kapsalis’ work behind the camera is just as impressive as Skye’s performance in front of it.

One of the more powerful relationships in the movie is Holly’s reluctant and inappropriate friendship with a student of hers, Paul (Zach Rand), who puts her on a pedestal. Holly’s friendship with Paul is awkward, yet believable. It’s built out of a painful mix of loneliness and necessity rather than passion. Skye and Rand have a palpable chemistry that accentuates the tension between the two of them. 

As Holly’s mental state and situation worsens, she begins to be tormented by a haunting vision. This not only puts an urgency on Holly’s journey, but it begins to greatly inform her behavior. She slowly loses touch on whether this vision is just some nightmare or if it’s actually a force that’s preying on her. The Swerve makes many impactful points with its story, but the film’s commentary on mental illness is particularly astute. It approaches the complex topic from a mature and serious place. It also taps into the genuine terror around not being able to trust what’s real and what’s a delusion in your head.

The high emotion present in The Swerve does much of the film’s heavy lifting, but it also knows how to get a lot done with a little. For instance, Holly acquires a wound that refuses to heal that in many ways is emblematic of her growing concern and her worry that can’t be quelled. It’s a striking visual, but the way in which it’s symbolic of Holly’s entire tailspin is beautiful. On top of that, The Swerve contains an absolutely haunting score that’s full of overpowering choral chants and melodies that decay into dissonance. It creates a tense atmosphere that compliments the subject matter and helps put the audience at edge in the same way that Holly is through all of this.

The Swerve’s final act turns into some seriously dark stuff and it’s a lot to take in. It’s just a glimpse of a woman at the end of her rope as she gets pushed even further down. In that respect, The Swerve resembles Joker more than it does any other movie. They both paint similarly dark pictures that show a person that’s been abandoned and a world that would rather attack than protect. The horror elements in this film are few and far between and it’s very much the kind of story that could all too easily actually take place. That’s where the real horror lies. The Swerve doesn’t hold back and it’s one of the bleaker conclusions of any film out of 2019. The Swerve contains the kind of fallout that would even make Shakespeare flinch.

The Swerve remains a frighteningly powerful story about what can happen when life slips away from someone and they don’t get the help that they need. It’s a tale that’s both grounded in reality and goes to surreal supernatural places, but is able to balance these extremes. This is a film that deserves to be seen for Azura Skye’s breathtaking performance, but everything here clicks and it’s exciting to see the start of an impressive new filmmaker. The Swerve is a lot and it may hit a little too close to home for some, but the film uses that empathetic energy to make its important points.