If the goal of The Turning was to get me to scream relentlessly by the rolling of the credits, then I would say it accomplishes its purpose with ease. However, it wasn’t exactly for the reasons you‘re probably thinking of. Unfortunately, the film had me screaming in horror not necessarily at its rudimentary jump scares or its surface-level exploration of trauma-induced rage and insanity, but at its frustrating disgrace of an ending, if you could even call it that. Believe me, you’re going to feel empty and discomforted once the credits roll, but for all the wrong reasons.
But even before the “ending” takes ahold of your time, The Turning fails to do anything substantial or new Henry James’ 1898 ghost tale The Turn of the Screw. All we have is but a disjointed and hollow shell that should have a straight-forward destination and yet still seems to constantly take the long way round. If it’s like driving with a map, imagine instead of taking the shortest, most effective and efficient route you can possibly take, you instead take detour after detour to sight-see. Even though it’s fair to say the sights are lovely to see, they don’t amount to anything substantial besides being a repetition of what we’ve seen. As such, the story fails to stack up its intriguing source material and ominous setting into something other than a pish-posh of rudimentary scares and lack of thematic sustenance.
Kate (Mackenzie Davis) is a nanny who seemingly finds a simple job in an estate up in Maine, where she is told to care for the two youngest residents of the property, orphaned siblings Flora (Brooklynn Prince) and Miles (Finn Wolfhard). But things begin to turn for the worst as Kate begins experiencing nightmarish sightings and apparitions within the rather large mansion. Everything is made more dire and consequential when Kate starts to unravel the mysterious past and happenings of not only the household, but of the children as well.
For the first 30 minutes or so, it seemed like the film had a clear path ahead. It sets up our lead, possibly deranged heroine, sets up the foreboding presence of the Gothic manor she’s staying in, and sets up her relationship with the children. It wasn’t anything special or worthwhile, but I was intrigued and was willing to follow along with the story. Basically, even though it wasn’t “good,” you can tell it had a purpose.
Mackenzie Davis, for at least most of the story, is perfectly suitable for the role she’s given, displaying a motherly tender side towards the children while slowly conveying the kind of hysteria and paranoia the story requires. Finn Wolfhard is sadly underplaying his role as the stuck-up, privileged, and slightly demented older brother of the children, coming off as rather unmotivated and sour instead of traumatized and dramatic. His sister, on the other hand, is much more captivating, with Prince exuberating a playfully impish persona that can come off as charming and cute, while also not shying away from Flora’s more personal, traumatic moments. For the most part the actors play their roles efficiently enough and do a decent job with the writing and dialogue they have.
It’s disappointing, then, that the writing they’re given gradually devolves from what was at the very least somewhat interesting into a mundane and mediocre repetition of the same set-ups and set pieces. For the next 30-45 minutes, we experience practically identical sceneries, with the kids (mainly Wolfhard) doing something suspiciously devious or questionable, Kate seeing a spirit of some kind, or even the house keeper uttering cryptic sayings just to heighten the “mystery” factor of the story. The thematic and aesthetic relevance of the story, and in turn the source material, is almost nonexistent, or at least isn’t studied thoroughly enough to add to the dread the story calls for. We hear a lot about the history of the house and the things the children have experienced, but none of it comes off as tragic or traumatic. It just feels like empty exposition, when it should add to the weight of the stakes in the story, particularly the stories of the children and why they are the way they are
Rather than be given a poignant and tragic examination of childhood trauma and psychological abuse, the story takes numerous detours in favor of seeing whatever fancy nightmarish imagery director Floria Sigismondi can conjure up. But to give credit where credit’s due, most of the scenery and set pieces are beautiful to look at. The haunting atmosphere provided by David Ungaro’s cinematography is impressively brought into fruition, with the manor’s intricately gothic architecture and ominously shot halls, quarters, and outdoor areas proving to be an effective environment for the majority of the film’s rather lackluster and cliché scares and mishaps.
But to be honest, if this was all the film was, just another adaptation of a source material that simply didn’t do much with what it had, I could’ve easily passed it off as just another simple horror endeavor that I’m sure many horror fans would delight in. But my general dislike for the movie grew into frustration and dissatisfaction when the film delivers an ending that doesn’t know the meaning of the word by any stretch. The film ends in a manner that is a detriment and disgrace to the rest of what the film was trying to convey and accomplish while also never providing any sort of profound or satisfying conclusion to the arcs we’ve been following. If we were to utilize the map example used earlier, imagine driving to your destination and you suddenly step on the brakes when you’re three-quarters of the way there. After that, your journey has ended and you just drive back home. The ending amounted to nothing and just left me and the audience with a bitter taste in our mouths.
The Turning takes intriguing source material and disrespectfully leaves its admittedly mundane story and cheap scares hanging with a complete disregard for a proper, conclusive ending. It could’ve been just another run-of-the-mill January horror fest, but it instead one ups itself and becomes a travesty in resolutions and thematic relevance. The actors do what they can with the material they’re given and for the most part they do an suitable job. The cinematography and production themselves make for a multitude of beautifully ominous imagery and scenery. But at its core, the film is nothing, until it became something worse. Having repetitive story beats, cliché scares, and mundane dialogue and characterizations is one thing, but it’s something else entirely when you refuse to give a story an ending, regardless of whether it would’ve been good or bad.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rl33gU2APIs&t=1s&w=585