The Other Side of the Door – Review

Horror movies evoke fear – that’s their purpose, and what filmmakers vie to achieve when tackling the genre. More often than not we veer into the realm of the supernatural to tap into such emotions, but real life can be the scariest notion of all, and nothing is more terrifying than the prospect of losing a child. In The Other Side of the Door, by prolific filmmaker Johannes Roberts, we use that idea to lay the foundations for this piece, utilising the theme of grief as a means of adopting the tropes and devices of the horror genre, much like the remarkable endeavour The Babadook managed to do.

Maria (Sarah Wayne Callies) and her husband Michael (Jeremy Sisto) are living in paradise, sacrificing everything to prosper in a beautiful, serene abode in India, where they raise their two children, Oliver (Logan Creran) and Lucy (Sofia Rosinsky). Tragedy strikes however, when Oliver drowns during a freak car accident, and given Maria was present at the scene, the loss of her child affects her in a such a way that she simply cannot shake it off. Witnessing the anguish she is going through, their maid Piki (Suchitra Pillai) informs her employers of an ancient ritual whereby Maria can speak to her son from beyond the grave, and say her final goodbye, allowing her a semblance of closure. So as the mother heads to the abandoned temple to communicate with Oliver, from behind a closed door, she is given one resounding, sacred piece of advice; do not open it. Needless to say, and given this is a horror movie after all, she does.

Though thriving within the supernatural elements, The Other Side of the Door is a tremendously human affair, telling an intimate story of loss, and dealing with such a personal tragedy. The scene whereby Oliver dies is an affecting one too, shocking the viewer, not for its suspense or horrific elements, but for its haunting realism. This establishes the tone of the piece, and ensures we’re fully invested in Maria’s cause from there on, as a close bond between the character and the viewer is formed. Roberts also uses his setting as a means of informing the atmosphere, not only capturing the eerie enchantment of traditional ancient rituals, but by making his protagonists vulnerable, away from home, living in another culture. It adds a sense of isolation to them, makes them feel lost, not always able to communicate with those around them – and this lingers over the viewer and enriches the disquieting aspects of the endeavour.

You would think though, that given how Roberts seeks in steeping his tale in realism, it would compromise on the more fantastical elements, but that’s simply not the case, as he finds a compatible balance between the two, and still maintains the fear factor, as a picture that is scary in parts and jumpy in others, and never at the expense of the candid character development. Roberts has been behind a handful of intriguing, dark pictures in his career, but needless to say this is the most accomplished offering yet, and sets the talented director in good stead for what’s still to come.