One dreary day in New Zealand, a young man named Jack finds himself visiting his estranged mother’s funeral. Elizabeth was a gifted architect who sadly lost her life, and Jack has come to learn more about the woman who gave him up long ago. He meets Elizabeth’s widow, Jill, who now inhabits the couple’s secluded home high in the mountains.
Though confused by Jack’s presence, Jill welcomes him into her life of mourning. But there are secrets yet untold regarding Elizabeth and her past. Strange happenings soon make it clear that Elizabeth did not wish to leave this world, and her spirit has held on, possessing both Jill and Jack against their will.
Directed with subtle skill by Samuel Van Grinsven, Went Up the Hill tells a haunting tale of generational trauma. Its leading actors, Vicky Krieps and Dacre Montgomery, bring nuanced life to those navigating painful revelations. Yet for all the film explores, its lethargic pace proves a blemish. Repeated scenes that add little dampen the lingering impact of this ambitious supernatural drama and its moving look at abuse and healing.
While the film shows glimpses of brilliance in setting a deliciously eerie scene, more discipline was needed in its execution. This ghostly story demonstrates how slow beginnings can undermine emotionally powerful endings. But for those with patience to follow its crawling course, Went Up the Hill offers a resonantly human glimpse into dark corners of the psyche seldom seen.
The Gloomy Grandeur of Ghosts
This story takes place within the imposing walls of a home tucked high in New Zealand’s mountains. While beautifully designed with walls of stone and glass, the architecture has an austere quality that adds to the unease. Stepping inside feels almost like entering a cavernous tomb.
Narrow windows stretch from floor to ceiling, framing sweeping views of the craggy peaks beyond. Yet for all their majesty, the mountains seem ominous and untouchable. An endless expanse of wilderness watches over the home’s isolation. Drifting fog often obscures what little escape the setting offers.
Within these confines, neutrals reign supreme. Shadowy tones of gray, brown, and blue dominate every room. Little color exists to lift the mood from its pervasive gloom. Even Jill’s woven textiles provide warmth through texture more than hue. The colorless palette reflects the emotional bleakness permeating the space.
Sound too adds to the atmosphere of unease. Howling wind forever buffets the exterior, while mysterious noises emerge from the woods. An eerie score plays beneath it all, accentuating the creeping sense that not all is right.
Van Grinsven’s cinematography captures it all in unflinching detail. Perspectives shift and distort under his lens, mirroring the instability within. Grand panoramas emphasize the home’s isolation, while tight shots intensify creeping sensations of entrapment. As with the characters, the setting itself seems as much a prisoner of darkness as a protector against it.
This stylish yet sterile domain acts almost as another unsettled soul. Its haunting halls come to represent the troubled psyches navigating within, wrestling with ghosts more powerful than any mere spook story could conjure. An imposing yet vivid character that magnifies the melodrama within.
Characters and Performances
At the center of this ghostly tale are two lost souls—Jack and Jill. Jack comes seeking answers about his long-lost mother Elizabeth, having endured an unstable childhood under her influence. Jill remains shattered in the wake of Elizabeth’s demise, left tending their secluded home and unresolved grief.
Battling his own emotional wounds, Dacre Montgomery brings a raw vulnerability to Jack. Fractured memories of affection haunt his every dealing with Jill and the phantom invading their lives. Montgomery imbues Jack with a desperate ache to understand his past while showing the scars it left behind.
As Jill, Vicky Krieps navigates between states of mourning and malicious control with unnerving fluidity. Krieps breathes life into a woman suffering immeasurably yet also posing a threat through no fault of her own. Her portrayals portray the anguish of abuse survived and inflicted with equal conviction.
An unlikely alliance forms between these two damaged souls. Providing each other solace yet also serving as unwilling vessels, their bond takes shape amid disturbing revelations. Comfort and chaos emerge hand in hand whenever Elizabeth’s spirit holds sway.
No easy task, Montgomery and Krieps rise to embody dual roles with seamless transitions between normalcy and possession. Their complex dynamic, fluctuating between care and fear, proves consistently compelling to witness unfold.
While the film has its flaws, its most affecting success lies in following these persecuted figures’ interwoven paths toward understanding. Their journeys to find closure through facing trauma, whether romantic or haunting, resonate powerfully due to the actors’ investigative and empathetic work. In confronting darkness within and without, Jack and Jill ultimately become this ghost story’s resonating heart.
Haunted Hands
This ghost means to be heard. After drawing Jack and Jill together, Elizabeth’s spirit seeks control over their sleeping forms. Her first message startles but also entices, dangling hope of revelation.
Yet with each possession, understanding slips farther from grasp. Memories surface yet change; intimacy warps into violence as Elizabeth guides unwilling hands. The dreams offer little peace.
Particularly unsettling is a scene where ghostly affection crosses all boundaries. Director Van Grinsven handles such complexity with nuanced care, shining light on dark corners while pulling no punches.
By surfacing trauma in visceral ways, this tale uses the supernatural to confront real wounds. Forced to see through dead eyes, Jack and Jill piece together a disturbing past. Its Gothic genre proves a bold conduit for addressing abuse’s lingering effects.
Yet repetition dulls impact; questions are left hanging as hauntings repeat without progress. Later scenes feel redundant, weakening an otherwise brave narrative choice. While the premise intrigues, tighter editing seemed needed to sustain its power.
Even so, this haunting explores how trauma imprints on hearts and minds, manifesting long after injuries are inflicted. Its most unsettling element may be the ghosts never fully departing those they’ve harmed. Their hands remain haunted by pains that linger far past the grave.
Lingering Ghosts of the Past
This tale seems deeply focused on Jack grappling with ghosts from his past. To drive home his traumatic upbringing, flashbacks repeatedly resurface.
Unfortunately, most add little that hadn’t already been shown. The first provides context; subsequent insights start to feel redundant. As more manifestations of Elizabeth’s misdeeds emerge, later callbacks begin dragging the present pace down with them.
Likewise, recurring scenes of the characters drifting towards the ominous lake or awaiting their next involuntary possession grow tiresome after multiple retreads. While tension remains, diminishing returns set in for repeated plot points and hauntings.
Had these redundant building blocks been trimmed, a tauter narrative would have flowed more naturally. As is, certain parts crawl at an almost funeral dirge-like tempo. Attempting to loose ends that seemingly refuse tying, the film loses momentum trying to find its conclusion.
Shortening certain recurring scenes and flashbacks could have shaved minutes, letting this ghost story’s scares linger longer in the mind. More restraint may have elevated an already atmospheric haunting and psychological probe into trauma.
Though ambitious in vision, this second feature could have benefited from tighter editing discipline. Less superfluous repetition would have maintained its creeping spell better to the ambiguous, unsettling end. But perhaps its pacing issues themselves mirror how lingering phantoms of the past can drag living souls down as they struggle to move on.
Lingering Shadows of the Past
This haunting film grapples with complex themes. At its core, Went Up the Hill seeks to unravel the grip of multi-generational trauma. By confronting painful ghosts of the past, might Jack and Jill break free of old wounds resurfacing?
Van Grinsven’s message is not always easy to grasp amid pacing issues. Yet the film lingers in the mind through its emotionally raw dives into themes of complicated love, grief tangled with abuse, and finding means to finally find peace.
We see how damage inflicted by those purported to care can echo down through lives and relationships. Codependency emerges as both balm and fresh injury for scarred souls. Memories warp perceptions in ways lasting long after physical wounds heal.
Ultimately, Went Up the Hill ponders darkness persisting when left unaddressed. Only by facing forbidden corners of the past, it suggests, can the haunted ever fully let ghosts depart. Its protagonists show resilience in refusing to let old injuries define life’s remainder.
Though some narrative missteps fuzz intended insights, the film resonates by stirring viewers to reflect on trauma’s tenacious grasp. Generations carry scars, either inflicting new pain or finding ways to let old wounds heal at last. Facing phantoms of the past proves the sole means empowering its characters to walk on in light instead of shadows.
Lingering Echoes of the Past
Samuel Van Grinsven’s Went Up the Hill was an ambitious dive into generational trauma, yet its lofty aims were hindered by a plodding pace. Still, this ghostly tale proved memorable for haunting visuals and deeply felt performances that burrowed under the skin.
For all repetitive missteps, its atmospheric drama and committed leads left echoes long after the final credits rolled. Through them, we experienced torment both ancient and freshly surfaced. Their journeys excavating buried truths to find closure, acceptance, or escape felt deeply resonant.
While certain retreads slowed momentum, Van Grinsven grasped a haunting concept by confronting personal demons through a Gothic lens. Observant camerawork and evocative score enriched stark emotions writ large across isolated landscapes.
Ultimately, Went Up the Hill stays with the viewer not through narrative perfection but authenticity in tackling heavy themes. It lingers by personal yet stirring reflections on processing pain, facing hidden terrors, and pursuing release from ghosts refusing to relinquish their hold. An imperfect yet impactful tale that haunts for its raw peek into shadows demanding illumination.
The Review
Went Up the Hill
Went Up the Hill displays moments of chilling atmospheric brilliance brought down by a plodding pace. Yet its emotionally gripping leads and unflinching look at generational trauma's grip make it a film that lingers long after in the mind.
PROS
- Deeply acted performances that carry complex characters and their emotional journeys
- Unsettling and evocative atmosphere enhanced by stellar production design and soundtrack
- Thoughtful exploration of grief, abuse, co-dependency, and finding closure from trauma
CONS
- Plodding pace hindered momentum with repetitive flashbacks and possession scenes.
- Narrative flow suffered from certain scenes outstaying their welcome.
- Ambitions of addressing heavy themes are sometimes undercut by pacing issues.
