Presence – Film Review

Steven Soderbergh’s Presence is an ambitious supernatural thriller that offers a unique cinematic perspective, but its narrative struggles to match its visual inventiveness. Written by David Koepp, the film attempts to blend family drama with supernatural horror, using an unusual point-of-view technique that places audiences in the perspective of the unseen entity haunting the film’s protagonists. While this experimental approach has moments of eerie brilliance, the overall execution leaves much to be desired. Presence ultimately feels like a technical exercise in filmmaking rather than an emotionally engaging or thematically resonant story.

Soderbergh’s decision to present the film entirely from the point of view of the titular Presence is bold, making for a voyeuristic experience reminiscent of found-footage horror but with a steadier, more composed visual style. This approach lends itself well to moments of tension, as we see the world through an invisible entity’s eyes, lurking in corners, following characters, and reacting to their actions in real time. However, this perspective also proves to be the film’s greatest limitation. By never stepping outside the Presence’s viewpoint, the film restricts character development and emotional depth, reducing the story to a passive observation of events rather than an engaging experience that allows audiences to connect with the characters on a meaningful level.

At the heart of the film is the Payne family, who move into a new home only to find themselves under the watchful gaze of the Presence. The family dynamic is rife with tension: Rebecca (Lucy Liu) is a mother struggling with moral failings at work while favoring her son, Tyler (Eddy Maday), over her grieving daughter, Chloe (Callina Liang). Chris (Chris Sullivan), the father, is caught between his growing religious beliefs and his marriage’s decline. The script attempts to weave in family drama with supernatural horror, but the result is uneven. The characters feel more like archetypes than fully realized people, and their conflicts lack the nuance needed to make their struggles compelling.

One of the biggest problems with Presence is its sluggish pacing. The film takes its time building up the family’s conflicts and establishing the Presence’s role as a silent observer. However, this slow-burn approach is often more tedious than suspenseful. The long, static takes—meant to immerse the audience in the supernatural perspective—end up making the film feel emotionally distant. While there are brief moments of tension, particularly as the Presence begins to intervene in small ways, the film lacks a sense of urgency or narrative propulsion.

The supernatural element is initially intriguing, as the Presence seems to take a protective stance toward Chloe, subtly intervening in key moments. However, the film’s refusal to provide concrete answers or establish clear supernatural rules makes the haunting feel vague rather than unsettling. The introduction of a medium later in the story provides some expository insight, but the film never fully explores its own mythology in a satisfying way. As a result, the supernatural angle feels like an afterthought rather than a fully integrated aspect of the narrative.

For a film marketed as a supernatural thriller, Presence is surprisingly light on genuine scares. The film favors atmospheric tension over traditional horror beats, but even in this regard, it underwhelms. The cinematography, while effective in some instances, is often too static, failing to capitalize on moments that could have been truly chilling. Instead of crafting suspenseful set pieces, the film relies on a creeping sense of unease that never fully materializes into anything memorable.

Part of this issue stems from the film’s over-reliance on its single-camera gimmick. While the fixed perspective creates a sense of voyeurism, it also limits the ways in which the film can build suspense. Without the ability to cut between different angles or create dynamic sequences, much of the tension feels muted. The lack of a traditional horror score further diminishes the film’s ability to evoke fear, leaving the audience with a feeling of detachment rather than dread.

Presence flirts with interesting thematic ideas but never fully commits to exploring them. The film hints at themes of grief, trauma, and familial neglect, particularly through Chloe’s character. However, these ideas remain largely underdeveloped. Chloe’s grief over her best friend’s death and her struggles with feeling unseen by her mother could have provided a strong emotional core for the film. Instead, these elements feel like background noise rather than driving forces in the narrative. The same can be said for the film’s commentary on morality, particularly with regard to Rebecca’s financial fraud and Tyler’s bullying behavior. These conflicts are introduced but never meaningfully explored, making them feel like hollow attempts at depth rather than integral parts of the story.

The film builds toward a climax that is meant to be shocking and emotionally impactful, but it ultimately fails to deliver. The final act relies heavily on a last-minute revelation that recontextualizes the entire film. While this twist is meant to add a layer of tragedy and meaning to the story, it comes too late to make a significant impact. Instead of feeling like a satisfying payoff, the revelation feels like a forced attempt to retroactively inject depth into an otherwise lackluster narrative.

The resolution also leaves much to be desired. The film ends on an ambiguous note, which may work for some viewers but feels unsatisfying given how little emotional investment the film has built up. The final moments are meant to be poignant, but they lack the emotional weight needed to make them truly resonate.

Despite its innovative approach and some strong performances, Presence ultimately falls flat due to its lack of emotional depth, sluggish pacing, and underwhelming horror elements. The film’s commitment to its single-perspective gimmick is commendable, but it comes at the cost of storytelling, character development, and genuine suspense. What could have been a gripping psychological thriller ends up feeling like a detached, aimless exercise in style over substance.