Incantation Movie Review: Intense psychological horror film that tends to obfuscate every now and then

Kevin Ko’s slow burn Taiwanese found footage / mockumentary horror film scores points on the sheer psychological and emotional impact of motherhood and the guilt attached therein (the inability to take care of one’s own, in this case). Li Ronan (Tsai Hsuan-yen) shares an uneasy relationship with her tight-lipped six-year-old, Dodo (Huang Sin-ting). The former’s desperate wish to make amends for the fractured past owing to her debilitating mental health issues is the undoubted highpoint of this intense feature. What unsettles in Incantation (Zhou, in the original Mandarin and Taiwanese) is not so much the gradual build-up of a curse that gets passed on, ancient rituals performed in a remote region of the mountains, a recurring symbol and an eerie invocation to a faceless deity, but the racking guilt gnawing its way through a mother’s heart when it comes to her young child. The complex bond that Tsai Hsuan-yen and Huang Sin-ting bring to the fore as parent and child stands out in the film’s two-hour run. The writing, though not as frightening as it ought to have appeared on screen, does ensure that you’re left with many questions towards the end. This isn’t the film for you if you’re looking for a resolution or a clearly mapped out beginning, middle and end.

Director – Kevin Ko

Cast – Tsai Hsuan-yen, Huang Sin-ting, Kao Ying-hsuan, Sean Lin, RQ

Streaming On – Netflix

The desecration of an age-old ceremony (involving a child, several elders, a goat, a symbol and a guttural chant) by a trio of camera-wielding ghostbusters, unleashes a curse – a curse that only weakens if more people invoke the incantation together. With two of her ghostbuster buddies dead from going too far with their documentation, Ronan slips into an abyss. She escapes from the region with the skin of her teeth but her problems are just getting started. Pregnant with her recently murdered boyfriend’s child, she is unable to shrug off everything that’s happened. Regular therapy sessions in which she details the curse and its resultant misfortune deem her to be an unfit mother, forcing her to give up her daughter for adoption. Six years pass, and all seems fairly normal. Li Ronan regains full custody of six-year-old Dodo. Though reticent, the kid sticks by her mom, asking her precocious questions as to why she gave her up, in the first place. As they begin settling in to a routine, some strange occurrences convince the mother with a new lease on life that the curse has passed on to her beloved child.

The events move back and forth from the time of the ritual-gone-wrong in the mountains to that of the present day, with a camera documenting the goings-on for the viewer. Ronan tells the social workers that she wishes to record Dodo’s every day, like a video diary, because she wants to make up for lost time. The weakest parts of Incantation are the ones involving the horror narrative. While there are no jump scares to contend with and the reveal is delayed and long drawn out (hard to even call it a reveal, because it isn’t a standard one) - both rather well portrayed - it fails to scare you in any significant way. The repetitive, guttural chant of invoking Mother Buddha through Hou-ho-xiu-yi, si-sei-wu-ma with its perfect accompanying sound effects is, by far, the creepiest part of the story. The others, though filmed smartly, aren’t as disturbing as originally intended, I suppose. The intensity of the mother-daughter relationship and its inherent complication is rather unsettling, thanks primarily to two incredible performances courtesy Tsai Hsuan-yen and Huang Sin-ting. Special mention goes out to the kid, who holds her own in a challenging role.

As I’ve mentioned earlier, the film throws up more questions than answers. How the curse came to be or why it gets passed on is never quite explained. What purpose or reason it could possibly serve isn’t delved into, either. Thematically, Incantation goes down the path of It Follows, where you’re not exactly sure what ‘it’ is. An effective technique to leave much unsaid, in the horror genre, no less, but somewhere, despite its best efforts (excellent acting, brilliant sound, good writing), the film obfuscates. Maybe that was the intention and it paid off for Kevin Ko and team, difficult to tell. Symbolism aside, watch it for the powerful realism and intensity of Tsai Hsuan-yen’s performance, as her consummate skill bears down on the role of a troubled mother down on her luck in every conceivable way.