A séance might provide the title and supernatural hook for Vivian Kerr’s Séance, but anyone expecting a conventional haunted-house horror film is likely to be surprised by what unfolds. This is a measured period drama as much as it is a Gothic horror, built around grief, marriage, temptation and four people gradually discovering that spending an evening together might have been a terrible idea.
Set in California in 1892, the 85-minute feature immediately establishes its darker intentions with a beautifully photographed but devastating opening. A mother and her young daughter play together on a beach, their happiness interrupted by images that tell us this memory will end tragically. The child drowns, while flies gather around her porcelain doll and the remains of the family’s picnic. Adults eventually emerge from the water carrying the girl’s lifeless body.
Eight months later, novelist Emma Strand (Scottie Thompson) is sitting on the beach with her second husband, Albert (Connor Paolo), who is drawing nearby. Their peaceful afternoon becomes considerably more complicated when Emma encounters her former husband, George Ford (Jilon VanOver), and his new wife Lillian (Vivian Kerr).
Despite the potentially uncomfortable circumstances, Lillian invites Emma and Albert to dinner. It quickly becomes apparent that grief still dominates the Ford household. The child who drowned was George and Lillian’s daughter Hazel, and only eight months have passed since her death. At dinner, Lillian begins asking questions about death that George considers inappropriate, before suggesting that the group perform a séance. She may present the idea lightly, but her desire to communicate with Hazel is painfully apparent.
As a storm gathers outside, the four find themselves together inside George and Lillian’s mansion. The situation gives Kerr a wonderfully simple dramatic framework. Emma is sitting across from a man with whom she once shared a marriage, accompanied by the people they subsequently married, while their hosts are still dealing with the death of a child. Long before anything potentially supernatural enters the equation, there is enough emotional baggage around that dinner table to make the evening uncomfortable.
Séance is inspired by August Strindberg’s play Creditors, and the theatrical influence can be felt in its concentration on a small number of characters and their increasingly complicated relationships. Kerr doesn’t treat this as a limitation, however. Rather than attempting to disguise the intimacy of the story by constantly pushing the characters elsewhere, she allows the mansion and the gathering storm to enclose them.
The séance itself consequently isn’t the entire point of the film. Lillian believes Hazel may still be present in the house, but Séance keeps enough uncertainty around what is happening to make us question the behaviour and intentions of the living as much as the possibility of the dead. Emma, meanwhile, has her own problems to confront, including her relationship with Albert and the complicated feelings created by being reunited with George. The official synopsis itself places Emma’s temptation towards adultery alongside the possibility that the Ford home is haunted, which gives a good indication of where Kerr’s priorities lie.
Séance Is a Beautifully Crafted Gothic Drama
One of the first things that struck us about Séance was simply how good it looks. Johanna Coelho’s cinematography is excellent, with impressive framing, controlled camera movement and lighting that makes the period interiors look suitably atmospheric without allowing them to disappear into darkness. Candlelight gives the mansion a warm but increasingly uneasy appearance, while the move away from the brightness of the beach and into the darker interiors naturally changes the visual character of the film.
Just as impressive is the amount of work that has gone into recreating 1892. The costumes are excellent, right down to the frilled collars and parasols carried by the women outside. Nina Fuller is credited as costume designer, while Bri Jones served as production designer. Furniture, curtains, candles and carefully selected props all contribute to the illusion, and there is very little visually to pull us out of the period.
That achievement shouldn’t be underestimated. Period filmmaking can expose an independent production very quickly because practically everything appearing within the frame has to withstand scrutiny. A modern object sitting unnoticed in the corner or an unconvincing costume can break the illusion immediately. Here, the combined work of Kerr, Coelho and the production departments gives Séance a convincing and often sumptuous appearance.
Kerr also proves herself impressively capable of balancing several responsibilities. As writer and director, she has constructed a film that is confident enough to take its time, while as Lillian she occupies one of its most emotionally difficult roles. Lillian’s grief hangs heavily over the story, but the character cannot simply be reduced to a bereaved mother desperate to contact her daughter. As the evening continues, our understanding of the relationships within the house begins to shift.
Scottie Thompson has an equally substantial role as Emma. She’s placed in an intriguing position from the moment George appears because the film doesn’t present her past as something conveniently buried and forgotten. Her former and current lives are suddenly occupying the same rooms, forcing her to consider feelings and decisions that would have been much easier to leave unexplored.
Connor Paolo’s Albert and Jilon VanOver’s George complete a strong central quartet. Much of the film depends upon these four actors holding our attention through conversation, glances, uncomfortable silences and gradually changing relationships rather than constant supernatural activity. Kerr trusts her cast with that responsibility, and it pays off.
This is also why describing Séance simply as a horror film doesn’t quite capture what Kerr has made. There are Gothic and supernatural elements throughout, but the film isn’t interested in delivering a procession of jump scares or gruesome set pieces. The tension is more frequently generated by wondering what these people are hiding, what they want from one another and whether everything we’re seeing should be accepted at face value.
That slower approach won’t necessarily work for everyone. Viewers attracted by the title and expecting the séance to unleash an aggressive supernatural threat may find the emphasis on dialogue and interpersonal drama unexpected. Yet for us, the restraint is one of the film’s strengths. Kerr allows the situation to develop rather than rushing towards conventional horror beats, and when the story begins revealing more about these characters, those developments matter because we’ve spent enough time getting to know them.
Editor Toby Yates deserves credit here too. An 85-minute film dominated by four people within a relatively confined environment could easily become static, yet the editing works alongside Coelho’s cinematography to keep the conversations visually involving while preserving the deliberate pace Kerr has chosen.
The original music is credited to Arturo Rodriguez and Holly Tatnall, another element contributing to the atmosphere without overpowering the drama. There is an admirable confidence throughout the production in not constantly telling the audience what to feel. The performances, photography, setting and increasingly uncomfortable circumstances are allowed to do much of that work themselves.
Séance has already enjoyed an impressive festival run. It premiered at the Newport Beach Film Festival and subsequently appeared at festivals including Dances With Films, Phoenix Film Festival, Beaufort Film Festival, A Night of Horror, Julien Dubuque and Fantaspoa. At Beaufort it won Best Feature and Best Actress, while A Night of Horror brought awards for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress.
Those accolades are understandable because this is an accomplished production on almost every level. Kerr has made something that embraces the appearance and atmosphere of Gothic horror while using it to tell a much more intimate story about damaged relationships, grief and the dangers of reopening doors that perhaps should have remained closed.
At 85 minutes, Séance doesn’t outstay its welcome, but neither does it hurry. It allows its four central characters and their increasingly uncomfortable evening to take precedence over easy scares. Most importantly, it looks superb. Coelho’s cinematography, the period costumes and detailed production design combine to make the film feel far more lavish than many independent period productions manage.
Vivian Kerr emerges as a highly capable writer, director and performer, supported by an excellent central cast and a filmmaking team that has clearly paid close attention to the smallest period details. Séance may lure audiences through the door with the promise of communicating with the dead, but the living prove every bit as fascinating. It’s an intelligent, beautifully crafted and absorbing Gothic drama that understands an uncomfortable truth: sometimes the most dangerous things brought into a room during a séance were already sitting around the table.
| Acting | |
| Direction | |
| Cinematography | |
| Writing | |
| Sound | |
| Screen Critix Rating |