NBFF24 REVIEW: Séance [20XX]

Rating: NR | Runtime: 85 minutes
Director(s): Vivian Kerr
Writer(s): Vivian Kerr

Still is?

Awkward doesn’t begin to describe the impromptu dinner party initiated at Lillian Ford’s (Vivian Kerr) invitation since she and husband George (Jilon VanOver) are playing hosts to his first wife Emma (Scottie Thompson) and her new husband Albert Strand (Connor Paolo). Old and new collide over alcohol before a torrential downpour forces the quartet to spend the night together as grief (Lillian is haunted by the guilt of being unable to save her young daughter Hazel from drowning a few months earlier) and frustration (Emma cannot get Albert to touch her let alone try for a child of their own) allows jealousy and regret to take control.

Written and directed by Kerr, Séance’s gothic horror is born upon the crumbling psychology of these four characters’ independent search for answers in all the wrong places. George and Emma feel they’ve made a mistake marrying younger spouses while still pining over what could have been (but never was). Lillian’s longing for Hazel has shattered her to the point where she’s been abandoned by her friends (and perhaps her husband) while Albert’s fear of intimacy places his relationship with Emma at risk of ending before it’s even begun. So, when Lillian suggests a séance to commune with her daughter, no one has the courage to decline.

The result is a rather effective psychological thriller against the setting of a darkened, cloth-covered mansion with rain blustering at the windows. Because something does happen when they gather around a candlelit table in hopes of reaching the spirit world—something none of them can explain without accusations of manipulation. But what if Hazel is still there, torturing her mother for letting her die? Or, what if the child, as Emma suggests, is actually leaving her toys in the hallways as a sign for Lillian to put them away and finally let go? Both choices bring their own form of nightmare.

What’s nice about this micro-budget indie, though, is that the duality to Hazel’s potential presence isn’t the only intrigue on display. There’s also the more believable explanation that Lillian is staging everything to torture herself. That idea then allows George to pull further away, which, in turn, yanks Emma further from Albert through the growing possibility of rekindling their love together. Add the period-specific (although sadly not extinct) notions of gender norms with Emma originally leaving George because he didn’t support her burgeoning writing career and the avenues Kerr leads us down multiply until we give ourselves over to the mystery’s designs.

Where she finally goes proves equally tragic and horrific in its exposure of humanity’s penchant for selfishness in cruel and opportunistic ways. Not that these characters don’t already epitomize that truth considering ulterior motives, secrets, and betrayals revealed early on. Kerr simply has a knack for making sure their duplicitous natures are sympathetic enough to accept their plight before finally pulling the rug to show one’s actions are truly unforgivable. It helps that they each tiptoe around their respective dishonesty so as not to make their present distress worse. We inherently distrust them all so the real villain’s reveal allows us to turn towards the victims rather than solely away from the perpetrator.