Katie Stelmanis' 2008 album Join Us matched her operatic voice with plaintive keys and glowing beats, a very arch and formal LP cut and paste from Kate Bush, Cabaret Voltaire, and classical music. That collage begged the question: Was this some sort of art school project, or was she serious? With new band Austra, the Toronto musician has a clearer vision of electronica.
A classically trained opera singer, Stelmanis uses her incredible vibrato to maximum effect, which can be a bit grating at times, but she definitely has control over it.
The fivepiece band, with linchpin drummer Maya Postepski, hit singles “Lose It” and “Beat and Pulse,” both from debut LP Feel It Break (Domino), Stelmanis' Stevie Nicks incantations and long tapestry kaftan adding to the witchy disco vibe.
“Lose It” sounds club-ready, an anthem for something and nothing; stylish and catchy, like something you'd hear in a Forever 21. Not all of Austra's jams were so anthemic, though—some were more intricate and melodramatic, synth and beat tumbling down repetitive Italo-disco inclines.
They lost some speed on the more ballad-y fare, but in this era of synth culture redux, they're at least trying to recontextualize it. The costumed backup singers (and twin sisters) harmonizing with Stelmanis gave the set a more primal feel, without the smeared mascara and ripped fishnets—electronic music expertly dug up through punk roots.
There are few directors more adept at moving between genres than Steven Soderbergh. Throughout his career, he has made dramas and comedies, heist films and thrillers, films with serious topics like drug trafficking and films with frivolous subjects like male dancers. He’s also dipped his toe into horror on occasion, something he does again with Presence.
However, typical of the hard-to-pin-down filmmaker, this film is not your typical ghost story, as its plot is told from the perspective of the presence itself. With the camera as its “eyes,” the audience sees a family of four move into an older-but-updated home: Mother Rebekah (Lucy Liu), father Chris (Chris Sullivan), son Tyler (Eddy Maday), and daughter Chloe (Callina Liang). The family dynamics are established early, as Rebekah favors Tyler and pins her hopes and dreams on him, while Chris has a strained relationship with Rebekah and tries to protect Chloe from stress, who has recently gone through a trauma.
The family’s various issues keep the atmosphere tense, and for the most part the presence is merely an observer to their conversations and activities. But Chloe can sense it whenever it’s close to her, and this connection leads it to sometimes announce itself via physical interactions with objects in different rooms. As the other family members gradually become aware of it as well, the story’s supernatural aura starts to increase.
Working from a screenplay by David Koepp, Soderbergh does a kind of switcheroo on audience expectations. In your typical haunted house story, the mystery of the ghost(s) is what drives the plot and keeps things scary. But since the audience, in essence, is the ghost, we know everything it is doing at all times. Instead, the suspense comes from the family itself, who have backstories that make the whole clan dysfunctional, at best.
Story elements are brought in through different ways than your typical film, with little hints being dropped along the way about various things that have happened in the family’s recent past. Why Tyler seems to be angry with Chloe all the time, or why Rebekah and Chris never seem to be on the same page with anything the family is dealing with are equally as interesting as anything the presence is doing.
The first-person perspective (used in a much different way than in the recent — and now Oscar-nominated — Nickel Boys) gives an intimacy to the film that is sometimes invasive, sometimes disorienting, but always engrossing. Soderbergh, who acted as the cameraman himself, takes the camera to almost every nook and cranny of the house, often getting so close to the actors that it’s uncomfortable. The constant, silent movement of the presence/camera makes for great viewing, lending the audience a knowledge they rarely have.
Liu is given a meatier part than she’s had in recent years, and she plays the complicated role for all it’s worth. Sullivan, best known for his role on the NBC TV drama This is Us, is equally good, with a demeanor that’s slightly at odds with his stature, but in a good way. Both Liang and Maday have light resumes (this is Maday’s first credit of any kind), but their performances are what make the film as effective as it is. With the presence more interested in her character than anyone else, Liang is asked to do a lot, and she is especially memorable.
While more of a family drama than a true horror film, the paranormal aspect of Presence gives enough of a spooky vibe for it to qualify. The highly successful film demonstrates that, 36 years after his breakthrough, Soderbergh remains one of the more fascinating directors out there, willing to try different projects instead of doing the same thing over and over again.