Anna Daniels
A Melancholic Elegy Emerges
“She isn’t truly gone… she talked to me last night.” This haunting line from the trailer does more than just chill; it injects life into the narrative. As Jack (Dacre Montgomery) lands in New Zealand for the funeral of his estranged mother, he rekindles his connection with Jill (Vicky Krieps), his mother’s partner. Then—unexpectedly—the spirit of his mother takes over, leading both of them into a spine-tingling night. It’s an eerie intimacy, where sorrow is intensified by the paranormal.
Krieps doesn’t merely perform—she sings. Her original track, “Jill,” wraps up the film and was even showcased live at TIFF on September 5, 2024. Such a bold move ties a character’s anguish directly into the film’s score.
Director’s Vision & Visual Spookiness
Samuel Van Grinsven, drawing from childhood memories in New Zealand’s South Island, transforms grief into a palpable presence. Tyson Perkins’ cinematography—soft and fluctuating—captures the emotional turmoil, while Maurice’s sound design plays with sounds like wind and whispers. The result is a haunting atmosphere even before the scary moments begin.
Caryn James of The Hollywood Reporter described it as “lyrical” and surreal, where every image feels like a memory reshaping itself under a lens.
Premiere at Festivals & US Release
- September 2024: Premiered in Toronto, where Krieps performed “Jill” live.
- August 15, 2025: Opens in select cities across the US—New York, Santa Monica, North Hollywood, Chicago, and Santa Ana—with additional screenings following (Chicago and Sedona, August 22; Santa Barbara August 22).
Significance
This isn’t just a typical scare-fest; it’s a deep dive into the distortion grief creates for those left behind. A son feeling betrayal, a wife wrapped in guilt… coupled with a restless spirit. It echoes The Babadook in its emotional depth, yet the possession element brings a more intimate and suffocating experience.
It’s uncommon for a ghost story to blend personal narrative with genuine fright. Van Grinsven’s film achieves this balance, co-written with Jory Anast, and driven by raw emotion.
Emotional Dimension
I keep thinking back to that trailer—Jack’s wide-eyed expression mid-possession and Jill’s cries resonating between them. It embodies family trauma morphing into something grotesque. I find myself captivated yet cautious—this seems too close to home, too intense. Such intimacy in horror might reopen past wounds.
Is It Genius or Overly Dramatic?
The balance could sway either way. If the film excessively emphasizes its sorrow, it may drown out the fear factor. However, should it successfully navigate the tightrope of a haunting that feels inherited—this could become one of the most memorable ghost stories in recent years.
Concluding Thought
Went Up the Hill transcends mere ghost storytelling—it is a narrative about grief, a body-horror interplay with lingering memories. It resonates with anyone who has carried loss within them. When it graces US theaters on August 15, 2025, count me in—clinging to my armrest as I ponder whether moving on means leaving behind those we love… or if they truly never depart.
