As a lover of horror, I am rarely truly disturbed or “horrified” by films. Maybe I’ve grown tolerant or maybe much of horror is ineffectual. I’m tired of hours of nothing but suspense, of misleading jump scares, of a promise of horror that’s coming, that’s worth the buildup, just wait for it… wait for it… and yet when it comes I am disappointed.

But that’s not Talk To Me (2023) by Aussie brothers (and YouTubers) Danny and Michael Philippou. The tone of Talk To Me is immediately established within a minute of the film’s start as we are struck with psychotic violence amidst a quintessentially Gen Z Aussie high school party. It’s intriguing, I can’t wait to see what’s going on. At first, I was worried because the horror came so early I wondered “How can it get worse from here?!” But it does. Continually. 

Our protagonist Mia (Sophie Wilde) tags along to a party where kids are playing a game of sorts. They take turns touching an embalmed psychic’s hand and saying “Talk to me”.

It sounds like something you’d say as you slap and jostle your unconscious friend who’s had far too much to drink, trying to urge them to “Stay with us”. “Talk to me” is something one says to try and bring back or keep those that are too far gone or going. That’s the genius of this phrase and title. The kids use this saying in order to evoke a dead spirit, to bring back to consciousness someone far gone.

Then, once the spirit is called upon, saying “I let you in” allows the spirit to possess their body, giving the possessed sixty seconds of pure euphoria, until the hand is pulled away by a friend and the spirit is exorcised. It is difficult not to draw comparisons to a common coming-of-age ritual: experimentation with drugs. There’s even a social element involved in playing the game. You do it not just for the feeling itself, but to show you’re not scared and to elevate your status in the pack. It’s all just a bit of fun, they suppose, but they’re out of their depth. They don’t understand how bad this can get.

This idea of teenage invincibility is explored initially through the tension between Mia and Jade. Mia, the foolhardier of the two, is eager to participate despite Jade’s trepidations. However, after Mia comes back to consciousness and Jade sees that she is okay—in fact more than okay, she’s euphoric—she decides to join in. “If nothing bad happened to her, nothing bad could happen to me,’ she thinks. And she thought wrong. Nothing bad has happened to her yet. Mia, following the same logic, allows Jade’s much-too-young brother Riley to join in on the game, “just for 30 seconds”. Now, horror and family drama coalesce horrifically to bludgeon your heart and curdle your stomach as the fallacy of teenage invincibility bares its ugly face.

The direction is very impressive for a debut film. They frequently utilise a shallow depth of field, leaving the shots soft and giving the feeling of the subject being disconnected from the room they’re in. Intoxicated. Dissociated. The handheld tracking shots that jump, swerve and race, fill you with dread. The rapid editing in party moments invigorates, thrills and captures the energy and fun. 

I am particularly astounded by the makeup artistry. Some of the goriest, borderline hard-to-watch body horror I have seen in a while. Delightful.

An interesting question is also posed in the film: is it better to put some out one of their misery or to allow them to be in extended agony but alive? It uses many examples to explore an answer, such as medical euthanasia, suicide and roadkill. It seems to lean towards the answer that it’s better to be alive, but this is not answered very clearly and is the main issue with the film. As well as this, the directors speak on their intended theme of connection and the importance of recognising and choosing real connection over false connection. This is explored through false friendships, social media and the illusion of connecting with the dead that the hand offers. Again, this theme is not presented well and leaves the film feeling a little shallow, without any real truth or purpose being expressed.

Besides that, I am overjoyed at Talk to Me. It is a great watch and very exciting to see such a fresh, funny horror film created by young directors, who are seldom given a platform in Australia’s film industry. I see this film doing well internationally, despite its strong Australiana voice. Perhaps this film may even indicate a shift within Australian cinema, towards supporting fresh, young voices and stories, and a shift in global cinema towards celebrating a new wave of Ozploitation.

Overall I give this film 4 disembodied hands out of 5.