Here Before, 2021.
Written and Directed by Stacey Gregg.
Starring Andrea Riseborough, Martin McCann, Jonjo O’Neill, and Eileen O’Higgins.
SYNOPSIS:
After new neighbors move in next door, a bereaved mother begins to question her reality.
In recent years Andrea Riseborough has quietly but confidently staked her claim as one of the most talented actresses of her generation, a claim bolstered by her searing performance in this low-key mystery-drama set in Northern Ireland.
Laura (Riseborough) and Brendan (Jonjo O’Neill) are a married couple still freshly grieving the death of their daughter Josie in a car accident. Soon enough new neighbours move in next door – a couple who have their own young daughter, Megan (Niamh Dornan). Laura quickly strikes up a rapport with Megan, the two bonding over their mutual loneliness, but the more she learns about the young girl, she comes to suspect that she might be a reincarnation of her departed child.
The crux of Here Before’s enigma is therefore simply laid out; is something otherworldly afoot and Laura’s daughter is indeed contacting her mother from beyond the grave, or is a grief-stricken Laura merely reading into Megan’s admittedly odd comments – such as recognising places she’s never actually been – and seeing what she wants to see?
Despite those clearly defined, seemingly binary outcomes, this is a mostly subtle, slight feature debut for filmmaker Stacey Gregg, girding her story along a tight axis of internal logic such that the truth of the matter remains deviously ambiguous until very late in the day.
The lack of clarity for most of the film allows Gregg to indulge a mild, slow-building creep throughout; there’s nothing inherently offputting about this benign, sleepy Northern Irish town, and yet, the possibility of a supernatural presence makes all the surrounding fog a little unsettling.
Regardless of where the story goes, though, this is at its best another spectacular showcase for Riseborough. Anyone who’s seen the criminally underappreciated 2012 thriller Shadow Dancer will know how flawlessly she can pull off a Northern Irish accent, but beyond that, she’s typically excellent as a woman who’s had the soul ripped right out of her. Laura wants to move on but can feel what might be a call from the void, and watching her spring to life every time she’s with Megan is at once beautiful and deeply painful.
O’Neill is also rock solid as her screen ballast and husband; Brendan’s underlying exasperation with Laura’s belief permeates throughout the film, but we never forget that he’s also grieving in his own way. We can feel their collective loss, and only once do their differing perspectives ever escalate to a flat-out screaming match; more often than not the tension is unspoken yet deeply sensed. Young Niamh Dornan also succeeds in a challenging, deceptively complex role which requires her to play Megan with a certain vagueness to keep the central conceit in tact until Gregg is prepared to let loose with the truth.
It’s oh-so-typical for the artsy, maybe-supernatural drama to just not commit to an ending, so without giving the game away, there is absolutely a concrete resolution to the story here. Though hinged on a reveal which initially smacks as fairly contrived, it ultimately slots together neatly enough once all the cards are played, while never losing sight of the prevailing anguish plaguing Laura and Brendan.
Despite a few goofy stylistic indulgences later on – particularly a jerky, surreal nightmare sequence which falls pretty flat – Gregg’s pared-down style, brought to life by Chloë Thomson’s airy cinematography, perfectly accentuates the script’s moody restraint. Brian Philip Davis’ sharp cutting meanwhile conveys the visually soupy collision of memories in Laura’s mind. A few non-linear divergences seemingly nod to the formal adventurousness of Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now, a feeling further implied by the frequent presence of a child in a red coat.
Here Before eschews bombastic paranormal hooey in favour of a more scaled-back, subtle genre joint – though exactly which genre it really is, you won’t know for sure until the very end. All the same, Andrea Riseborough adds another exceptional performance to her sizeable cachet in a quietly gruelling tale of grief.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Shaun Munro – Follow me on Twitter for more film rambling.
Originally published February 17, 2022. Updated September 24, 2022.
