Babadook is a breath of fresh air for the recently stifled horror genre. It never advanced quite how I expected, nor does it end the way your typical horror film would. I’ll confess to several instances of hiding behind my hands, taking peaks in-between fingers at the scares presented (though admittedly I’m a real scaredy-cat when it comes to horror). Babadook rarely relies on jump scares however, thriving instead on atmosphere and buildup. Creepiness is its preferred weapon on viewers’ fears, with everything about the film feeling slightly off (in a good way); whether it be from the stress-filled mother (Essie Davis), her hyperactive son (Noah Wiseman), or their unusually dark home which becomes a place of gothic décor and scenery once the night arrives. There are multiple references (through their television) to silent horror films throughout, all very fitting with Babadook’s reminiscent style to such an era. I was reminded of Nosferatu when the Babadook’s shadowy figure emerged, and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari as the house twisted into a nightmarish playground for the creature’s use.
The film’s most haunting element is not the Babadook itself (though it does come in at a close second), but the book which introduces the creature, “Mister Babadook”; a twisted children’s story which begins harmless enough, but devolves into a disturbing terror. Pop-up illustrations are used, giving hand drawn pictures of the Babadook in semi-silhouetted form; this effective technique gives the viewers a glimpse at what the monster looks like (in a disconcerting kids’ format no less), letting our imaginations run wild in a way that’s far more terrifying than simply revealing the creature. The film wisely leaves the Babadook’s origins and motives ambiguous (something horror films and there sequels tend to forget), creating a memorable creature which could pass as an old folklore myth or monster legend.
