Behind You

There's something innately spooky about mirrors. In the Ancient world, reflective surfaces were often perceived as gateways to other worlds, and early artificial ones were used not just for ornamentation and personal grooming but also for occult purposes. It only takes the slightest flaw in a mirror to distort an image in an unsettling way, and staring at your own reflection in a dimly lit room can trigger a disturbing optical illusion. It's no wonder that they've found their way into numerous myths, folk tales and horror films.

All of the mirrors in Aunt Beth's house are covered up. Her study and the basement are firmly out of bounds. This still isn't a very safe place for children, but what can she do? Olivia (Addy Miller) and Claire (Elizabeth Birkner) have been deposited on her doorstep with very little notice. Their mother has died, the friend who was looking after them is about to move out of state, and they need somewhere to stay until their father returns from his work overseas. Beth (Jan Broberg) is their only other living relative.

Unable to hide her resentment or face discussing the fears that underlie it, Beth makes a stern and unwelcoming figure. Fortunately her friend (and former boyfriend) Charles (Philip Brodie) is on hand to try and make the young sisters' experience a bit easier. We have seen these two briefly before, in a flashback at the start of the film, an opportunity for writers/director Andrew Mecham and Matthew Whedon to have fun with the more sinister tropes of eighties horror cinema. Back then, when Beth was about Olivia's age, she too had a younger sister, but nobody talks about that now.

Aunt Beth's house is beautifully crafted, straight from the pages of a children's storybook, with its visually bewildering floral wallpaper; its austere, shaded windows; its heavy wooden doors; its sinister, cluttered basement. It's a house where nobody is supposed to venture out of their rooms after bedtime, but of course there are no rules here that remain unbroken. Hidden in the house is a single, solitary mirror, and that's all it takes.

With marvellous performances from its young leads, who start off in the difficult position of having to repress their emotions to communicate the weight of grief, the film very effectively builds up an atmosphere of dread. Like all the best horror it doesn't allow its familiar tropes to be obstacles but instead uses them to instil the sense that we are drifting towards something unavoidable and awful. The relationship between the girls and our awareness of what they have already been through makes us care about their fate more than we usually might. Where Broberg keeps her character brittle and distant even after revelations about her past begin to emerge, Brodie gives the film heart, his abiding affection for her and clear (if unspoken) role as a carer assuring us that there's a good person hiding behind all that pain.

In these areas, the film excels, so it's a shame that the script isn't as strong, bundling in the exposition in a couple of clumsy scenes where it really would have benefited from letting us see more for ourselves. We get hints that Beth has a fascinating backstory, having reinvented every aspect of her life in response to her past trauma, but what we are privy to leaves some big questions unanswered and aspects of the present-day plot are harder to accept as a result. Whereas the first half is elegantly structured and benefits from taking its time, the final act is rushed and ungainly, reducing its emotional impact.

There's some superb technical work here, helping to create a visually absorbing world that feels solid and complete - an appropriate background for the uncanny. The freshness of the girls' performances keeps it feeling real. Although the film falls short of what one initially hopes it might achieve, it's still an above average piece of work that packs in some genuine chills. If you're going to watch it alone in your house, you might want to cover your mirrors first.

Behind You is available for digital pre-order/purchase here.