Film Review — Keeper
Osgood Perkins finally manages to impress me
Until now, I’ve not really understood the fuss around Osgood Perkins. The wildly overpraised Longlegs (2024) was my biggest cinematic disappointment of last year, and this year’s The Monkey didn’t do much for me either. However, with Keeper, we finally have a Perkins film that impressed me whilst getting under my skin in an agreeably disturbing way, which, of course, is exactly what I want from a horror film.
The film opens with a peculiar montage of women who, from the point of view of an unseen person, appear in a series of shots depicting the romantic start, indifferent middle, and catastrophic end of a relationship. Then, in quick cuts to close-ups, they are all bloodied and screaming. Yikes. With this squirm-inducing start setting up appropriate expectations, we’re introduced to Liz (Tatiana Maslany) and Dr Malcolm Westbridge (Rossif Sutherland), who decide to have a break away from the city in a secluded forest cabin belonging to the Westbridge family. Never a good idea in a horror film, right?
Things are slightly off from the moment they arrive. From the peculiar visits of Malcolm’s boundary-ignoring neighbouring cousin, Darren (Birkett Turton), to Darren’s eerie non-English speaking model girlfriend, Minka (Eden Weiss), to the unsettling layout of the cabin itself — simultaneously claustrophobic yet horribly open with vast windows everywhere — Liz finds herself on edge. Peculiar visions of ghostly apparitions and images of a strange pregnant woman dancing near a stream unsettle us further. Things get increasingly alarming, and that’s all I really want to say about the plot, as it is best discovered unspoiled.
What most impressed me about this film is Osgood’s direction. His framing, courtesy of cinematographer Jeremy Cox, makes superb use of Danny Vermette’s production design, with objects, walls, stairs, and the cabin layout in general constantly obstructing significant areas of the foreground, out of focus, with the subject placed within or to one side. The trees and branches of the surrounding forest are used to a similar effect. It’s a brilliant decision that perfectly enhances that narratively appropriate sense of being trapped.
Nick Lepard’s screenplay also impressed me. The best horror often comes from the inexplicable, and there is plenty of room here for individual audience interpretation. When a big reveal of sorts occurs, some elements remain deliberately vague, with a finale that requires a little work on the viewer’s part to extrapolate the reasons behind what ultimately transpires. That gives the film a genuinely nightmarish edge, as do the supernatural elements, which are downright bone-chilling. One particular shot — a low-angle close-up of Liz’s face whilst the space behind her darkens and a spectral entity appears — is all but guaranteed to trigger bad dreams. It’s-behind-you moments are rife in horror films, but this one proved a splendidly effective reinvention of a hoary old cliché.
Performances are solid, and as for any meaning, despite its occult undercurrents, I daresay Keeper could be read as a commentary on modern relationships. The uncertainty of meeting someone on a dating app, and how much trust is required before agreeing to place oneself in a situation such as the one in which Liz finds herself. After all, what does she really know about Malcolm, or his past, even after dating him for a year (a record for her, as she explains to a friend on the phone)? Perhaps in times past, when one met people socially, potential partners could be vouched for by a third party, but in this day and age? Not so much.
Still, these are speculations (I’ve been happily married for many years and met my wife long before swipey-appy silliness ruined everything). Whether one wants to read a message about dating into this or merely enjoy it as a skin-crawlingly unsettling film, Keeper, I am pleased to say, is a keeper. Its ambiguities may not be for everyone, but I have finally found an Osgood Perkins film to champion.
(Originally published at Medium.)
The Dillon Empire beyond Substack
For a full list of my published novels, click click here.
For more on my novels and other fiction projects, click here.
For my Patreon page, click here.
For my Medium page, click here.
For the Dillon on Film podcast, click here.