By Gabby Foor
Everyone enjoys the exploration involved when looking for a good film, but there are sometimes pieces you never knew you needed that end up right in your lap. I got lucky in this way with my privilege to screen Moon Garden. The trailer’s beauty was an appetizer for what ended up being the visual feast that is Ryan Steven Harris’ masterpiece. With style to rival the epic Mad God and echoes of Ghost Stories, this movie balanced the scales between gruesome beauty and a compelling idea, executed with unrivalled creativity. Emotional chapters amidst the magic add heart to a visually terrifying and fantastic adventure, making moments rooted beyond the supernatural just as pertinent to the story as Anna’s (Haven Lee Harris) journey through it. Moon Garden crafts unique frights and lasting images with a moody score and a shockingly mature performance from a young actor. This film hits all of the marks, even at its most mysterious points, and leaves you wondering what could be floating in purgatory when we are not quite alive. but haven’t given up yet.
A navy darkness stained with shadows and a melancholy score takes us to the home where Sara (Augie Duke), sleepless, is about to do the hardest thing a person in a marriage with children can do: leave. Courage gathered and with hushed voices, Sara takes Anna to chase the sunrise, but before she can put the car in drive, her plan is undone as her husband Alex (Brionne Davis) emerges, removing Anna and leaving a defeated Sara to return. They fight viciously in the kitchen as Anna tries to play precariously on the stairs and eavesdrop a bit. But back in the bedroom, Anna’s father reassures her that adults, even her “complicated” mother, fix things – and eventually, he mercifully lets Sara get Anna to sleep. The rooting of childhood fears, like the uneasiness of hearing your parents fight, plants worldly anxieties into this very supernatural film that keep you oscillating emotionally. Sleep doesn’t last long for Anna as what I can only describe as a skittering in the ceiling cuts the silence, and when inspected, turns into a full-blown haunting rattle. In a frenzy, Anna goes to her parents, who are still brawling, and in the eruption of the emotion, Anna screams for it all to stop. As she does, she suddenly topples from the landing down a horrifying number of stairs to the floor below, sending her into a coma.
Upon awakening, this isn’t a hospital room; it’s an ominous looking forest somewhere unknown with just enough sparkling distractions to get a child into trouble. In a television set discovered in the trees, Anna can hear the beginnings of panic as we hear police dispatchers, but with the sudden arrival of loud speakers and a humanoid being emerging from the earth, there’s bigger things to consider. In a mysterious set of events (after seeing on the TV what’s happening to her in triage) Anna pushes a button and the humanoid being begins to undulate in strange ways, connecting to others in the forest. After fleeing to a building, bathed in red light, Anna watches through a window as the paramedics tend to her, but she can’t pierce the veil to tell them she’s not yet passed, lamenting her mother’s pain. Colors swell as Anna is both the most and least lifeless thing on screen. As this unfolds, we see in another part of this strange world, a different, more sinister entity is awakening with a simple moniker: Teeth. With the apparel for Jeepers Creepers and an imposing abstract appearance reminiscent of The Babadook, this malignance with its chattering teeth left me feeling uneasy throughout. This movie utilizes its close-up shots with either frightening or emotional efficiency, especially with its monsters.
Still exploring this steampunk fairytale world, Anna briefly sees a figure in white in a corridor before she’s attacked by the toothy ghoul. With fast thinking, she climbs into a well bucket and lowers herself down only to have the monster hurl itself after, and with very tricky fun camera effects, seem to reach beyond what’s physically possible to take hold of her. Pulled under, a pale hand reaches down to seemingly save Anna, but instead she is pulled into a pleasant memory of learning how to swim, before the lesson reverts back to the murky waters of the well where Anna uses the skills her mother taught her to break free. This powerful gesture seems to make it to our world, where Annas hands gently twitch, to her mother’s hopeful amazement.
In another room in the winding steaming corridors of the strange other world, we find a masked man, billed only as “Musician” (Philip E. Walker) ironically, using a sledgehammer and a pinch of magic to reassemble destroyed musical instruments. He silently tunes an old radio and we hear Sara, praying for Anna and singing to her as the masked musician plucks along to her melody. A mistuned string ends the song and broadcast but earns a standing ovation from Anna. The friendly stranger welcomes her into the room, lamenting her situation, and when asked if she can contact her parents, he seems to know a place far off she can use. He encourages her to imagine reaching her journey should she find herself lost again, gifting her the radio. A brief and poignant moment, cut short and darkened by the arrival of clacking jaws and the sudden loss of our friend. It looks like for now, we’re on our own.
I feel like this is a film del Toro might be proud of. Magical elements and colorful characters discovered through the film make it a full visual and emotional pleasure and the fantastical elements of the world, though sometimes grotesque or monstrous, are endlessly interesting. The visuals of this film are truly something to enjoy that you don’t often get to see.
I’m usually sceptical of child actors having to carry the burden of the plot, but Haven Lee Harris does it with talent and control beyond her years. Her innocence never sabotages her savvy and makes her an easy young heroine to invest in, and though the plot may sometimes seem thin as we only follow Anna to her mother’s voice, this is a journey, and we’re watching as passengers. Its villain, in contrast to our tiny hero, is relentless and unnerving, bringing the frights early and often. This exploration of fields of consciousness is a fascinating watch, using an ethereal realm and the parallel world to emphasize the wonder of what and who might lay beyond and what those in the real-world experience when they are facing a catastrophic loss, clueless about the experience of those they fear for. Thankfully, our director has many clever ideas to liven up the deadened world for Anna, with tricks to manipulate geography and perspectives and a little mysticism in her herself that reminds me in some ways of the game Little Nightmares as a small girl navigates a dark, hungry world.
I went in excited and left thrilled with my viewing of Moon Garden. This film was one of those treats you receive and get the privilege of seeing before most. With its grim fairytale storyline, Moon Garden lays out an extravagant journey of frights and the plea to hold out hope. I was taken by this film and the amount of emotion thoughtfully mixed into what is otherwise an epic storytelling endeavor, creating a whole moving universe outside of the usual supernatural rules I’m accustomed to in horror. Unique, brilliantly lit and shot, with sound design to send shivers through your fillings (another credit to Harris as he was sound designer), Moon Garden ranks towards the top of the films I’ve seen this year and I dare other directors to be as bold and imaginative as Harris in the hopes that more works like this can be enjoyed, breathing some enchantment back into the sometimes lifeless, repetitive genre that is supernatural horror. With much praise, I suggest you see this film and treat yourself to a journey through the ethereal and emotional, one with more than enough tension to get your teeth chattering.
Moon Garden (2022) is released in select cinemas on May 19th, 2023.