When Smile was released in September of this year, so many viewers compared it to The Ring (2002) and It Follows (2014) that it bears some comparison. Not only is each film’s central “it” not easily defined, each follows a female protagonist who, in investigating the horror going on around her, becomes hunted by it and consumed by its power.
The “it” at play is essentially trauma that takes different forms in each film. Trauma abounds in Smile. After witnessing the bizarre and frightening suicide of a new patient, psychologist Dr. Rose Cotter (Sosie Bacon) starts experiencing and seeing things she can’t explain and the more she tries to do so, the “crazier” she seems. It’s a silly premise on the surface: someone witnesses the suicide of a person who smiles a very sinister smile before committing the act and then the person who witnessed it becomes infected with a desire to commit suicide as well. The spreading of this trauma can only occur, however, if someone is there to witness it. Thus, the cycle continues. Oh, AND before that person’s time comes (between four and seven days), they will be terrorized by people and figures that others don’t see.
But this premise makes the film (indeed all three) work on a deeper level. Not only does no one believe what Rose is seeing because they can’t see it themselves, they can’t see the trauma she has faced. We learn as the story progresses that as a young girl, she also witnessed her own mother’s suicide. Understandably, this kind of trauma leaves deep marks and wounds that others cannot fully see or comprehend. And to try to explain the grief that comes to define who you are at your core is nearly impossible. It’s actually easier to hide from the emotions it raises. Thus, the smile metaphor. We often smile to hide our pain because it’s easier than trying to explain. So throughout much of the film, we see Rose pulling at her clothes to gain composure, breathlessly whispering “sorry” after she says something not in line with the way others want her to act. It’s incredibly frustrating to watch her try to tell her fiancée, psychologist and sister that something undefined is stalking her and inevitably, there is a kind of gaslighting that occurs the longer she pleas with them.
The same kind of cyclical trauma exists in The Ring. After Rachel’s (Naomi Watts) teenaged niece dies a horrific and unexplainable death from watching a mysterious video, she attempts to understand what happened. Because she is a reporter, she has access to the tools she needs and much of the first act of the film follows her as she doggedly researches files, notes, microfilm, etc. for clues. In doing her research, she of course watches this mystery tape – still THE creepiest montage in any horror movie. Its black and white images punctuated by static are pictures of a little girl’s life, as we later find out, but taken out of context, the video plays like a nightmare of nonsensical pieces of information. Like Rose, Rachel knows her time will come to an end in seven days.
Both the film and video within it bring to the forefront the trauma that was Samara’s life in an institution and with her adopted parents. The idea is pretty clear but works well – our childhoods, our happiness, our griefs all are recorded in memory. Here, memory has made its mark in the form of a tape so that it cannot deviate, cannot bend from its reality. It’s a nightmare with black and white truths that you cannot escape.
As in Smile, Jay Height (Maika Monroe) in It Follows is followed by an unknown supernatural force after she has sex with a guy she’s dating. We’re used to this horror genre trope – teenage sex equals death. But this film takes a closer look at the trauma that this act produces for our young protagonist and the teens around her. Whether the “it” is a punishment for having sex or a commentary on sexual promiscuity, it takes on the same kind of nightmare quality exhibited in Smile and The Ring. Figures start following her, taking on different shapes and personas. And they’re all trying to kill her. Even her deceased father becomes one of these figures at the poolside finale – perhaps a further commentary on the punishment your parents dole out if you have sex. “It” is imprinted on her until she passes it on to someone else.
Smile is certainly derivative of The Ring and It Follows, but it has enough originality to stand on its own and all three would make for a super fun marathon during spooky season. What stands out to me is that all three are about trauma that doesn’t have an end. Rose’s role as psychologist is fittingly ironic– she tries achingly hard to communicate with her patients but at the end of the day, she can’t until she understands her own childhood issues. Or at least that’s what the film leads you to believe. Rachel’s job as a reporter helps her much more rapidly piece together what happened and when the film reaches its finale, you are sure that Samara and all the horses are at peace. After Jay and her friends successfully destroy the entity following her, we believe that the kids will indeed be fine. Our minds want these films to be wrapped up conclusively at their ends, but that just cannot happen. Because what’s imprinted on us stays with us no matter how many times we pass it on, a nightmare is a nightmare, a ring cannot be destroyed and trauma begets trauma. We just have to keep smiling through it.
Rated R with a run time of 1 hr 55 min