Film Review: Relic
Inside a fading mind, decay and a touch of tenderness
A horror film that takes place in the dark recesses of a fracturing mind, Natalie Erika James’ Relic is an all-too-real examination of mortality, the ones we leave behind, and the ones we let go. Grounded by a trio of affecting performances and a hint of tenderness, Relic is terror worth experiencing. Minor spoilers ahead…
On its surface, director Natalie Erika James’ feature debut, Relic, takes many cues from its horror contemporaries. Whether it’s the devastation of the dark family secrets of Hereditary, the allegorical isolation and despair of The Babadoook, or the single-location terrors of The Lighthouse and The Lodge, Relic pulls tinges of familiarity with its atmospheric, slow-burn haunting. But where much of modern horror’s sinister allure lies in bleak hopelessness and harrowing trauma, Relic swerves with an affecting undercurrent of tenderness.
While not particularly subtle, the film’s primary metaphor is grounded in a near-universal experience: the death of one’s parents. Whether it’s with a sudden shock, a quiet dignity, or a tragic deterioration, saying goodbye to the older generation is a rite that almost everyone goes through. In Relic, creeping mortality takes the form of dementia (or is it?), rearing its ugly head when family matriarch Edna (Robyn Nevins) briefly goes missing, only to return having…changed. Under the care of her exasperated daughter Kay (Emily Mortimer) and granddaughter Sam (Bella Heathcote), Edna shows increasingly troubling signs of decline - from her erratic behavior to a spot of strange rot on her chest, it’s easy to see that something is seriously amiss.
Utilizing a simple narrative and a handful of chilling performances, Natalie Erika James constructs a tale of terror steeped in atmosphere and unsettling imagery. Production designer Steven Jones-Evans, in perfect harmony with director of photography Charlie Saroff, brings the film’s singular location to horrifying life. With a pungent miasma of rot, mold, and decay, the family’s home quickly becomes a dark mirror that reflects Edna’s disturbing transformation, and by the film’s frantic final act, the house becomes a character in and of itself, warping reality and perspective with its erosion, claustrophobia, and architectural paradoxes. Like all effective horror, James’ command of Relic’s tone and supernatural frights are grounded in the real. There are, of course, the specters that go bump in the night, but the film’s most affecting elements detail the crumbling of familial bonds. As Edna’s behavior grows more and more disconcerting - lashing out with uncharacteristically cruel words and violent outbursts - Kay grapples with the fact that it may be time to put her mother in a home.
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But where much of modern horror’s sinister allure lies in bleak hopelessness and harrowing trauma, Relic swerves with an affecting undercurrent of tenderness.”
Both Emily Mortimer and Bella Heathcote put forth admirable performances, but it’s Robyn Nevins that shines most brightly in the role of Edna. While it’s a style that will seem familiar to those well-versed in the genre, Nevins’ portrayal is as much a physical one as it is emotional, anchored by quiet moments that sell the tragedy of her condition. “I’m losing everything,” she tells Kay at one point. There’s minimal backstory to Relic, but this trio of strong performances is all that’s needed to sell both the generational divides as well as bridges among grandmother, daughter, and granddaughter.
Most refreshing of all, Relic careens left where most horror turns right. Where many of the film’s peers would relish in bleak and hopeless terminals or Pyrrhic victories, James imbues her debut with an undercurrent of tenderness and warmth that comes into focus in the film’s final act. In an interview with the Los Angeles Times, James elucidates: “I really want the audience to have somewhat of a cathartic experience. My attempt with this film was to really sum up the essence of the experience [of death and decline] emotionally. And if it helps someone process the experience in a new way or helps them conquer that fear, that would be pretty amazing.”
Relic lives within the framework of familiar horror stories as a disturbing slow burn, but it also possesses qualities rarely seen in the zeitgeist of the genre. Seamlessly combining its performances, cinematography, and production design with searing allegory and grace notes of empathy and compassion, Relic stands out from the crowd. The film is a confident feature debut from Natalie Erika James, and makes her one to watch, especially within the horror space.
