The Babadook (2014)

Jennifer Kent's poignant horror masterpiece is a close second to Hereditary as my favorite genre film of the past decade, and a profound reflection on the effects of trauma.

Directed by: Jennifer Kent

Cinematography by: Radek Ladczuk

Country: Australia/Canada

Genre: Horror/Drama

“One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of the light, but by making the darkness conscious.” -Carl Jung

This is precisely what the horror genre does. Through symbolism, allegory, and the literal, the horror genre illuminates and gives voice to the dark corners of humanity, unveiling our fears and anxieties, and allowing us to examine and confront them in a safe space. That safe space may be the comfort of our own home, or the confines of a movie theater (which for many movie lovers is a sacred place not unlike a church, each director creating their own sermon, the images flickering onscreen connecting us, making us feel a part of something greater than ourselves).

Horror allows us to understand what it is that scares us, and why it does so. It allows us to pinpoint the origin of those fears; whether they come from outside forces (fear of the other, of disaster, of war, of any of the random dangers that come with living), or from within (fear of a sickened spirit [possession]; a sickened mind [mental illness and insanity]; or a sickened body [disease]). It’s this understanding, this wisdom and enlightenment, that allows horror to act as one of the most unexpected forms of catharsis.

[SPOILERS AHEAD]
In The Babadook, Australian filmmaker Jennifer Kent intelligently and sensitively explores the fear of a sickened mind and all the fallout that comes with mental illness. Specifically, it explores the trauma inflicted on the mind due to grief, and the various stages that its sufferers must endure, especially the crippling monster that is depression, and the way depression can make those inflicted with it feel like they’re becoming monsters themselves. In this film, through metaphor, that trauma is given a material form - a creature, the Babadook - for the main character Amelia to confront.

The creature is given a goal as well. Leading up to the seventh year anniversary of her husband’s death, the same day her only child was born, Amelia’s grief, still festering inside her, grows so strong that it conjures up a creeping, haunting, malevolent spirit that hopes to possess and consume her from the inside out, and through her, her child as well. The movie devastatingly shows us the effects of grief and depression, and the way it’s seen through the eyes of a child, but it also demonstrates Amelia’s hard-fought breakthrough: her acceptance that the death of her husband will always be with her, and the coping strategies she learns to manage those feelings.

Knowing those feelings of grief can’t be ignored or suppressed (as Mister Babadook states, “The more you deny, the stronger I get”), she keeps the creature in the basement of her home so that she can engage with it on her own terms, even feeding those dark memories in small, controlled portions. That way the Babadook goes from being untouchable, to something Amelia is able to interact with and recognize, because painful and frightening though it may be, it’s still a part of her that needs to be nurtured and cared for.

Bizarrely enough, there’s a quote from the Marvel film Doctor Strange (2016) that I find incredibly applicable to the message (and literal plot) of this film: “We never lose our demons, we only learn to live above them.”

Distributed by: IFC Midnight / Sundance Selects / Scream Factory