Director: Daina Reid
Writer: Hannah Kent
Stars: Sarah Snook, Greta Scacchi, Damon Herriman
Synopsis: Sarah Snook plays a fertility doctor who believes firmly in life and death, but after noticing the strange behavior of her young daughter, must challenge her own values and confront a ghost from her past.
The new Netflix psychological horror thriller, Run Rabbit Run, conquers the genre if you want to judge the film solely as a visual medium. Cinematographer Bonnie Elliott successfully builds enough tension and horror goodness by incorporating a wide range of subjective camera shots, from extreme close-ups to an effective wide-angle tracking shot over the desolate Australian landscape, causing the viewer to feel uneasy about where the story is heading as it progresses. However, novelist Hannah Kent’s script relies too heavily on standard horror tropes that are repetitive, which are practically the same scenes. The result is the cinematic equivalent of knocking your head against a wall, expecting a different result.
Run Rabbit Run follows a single mother named Sarah (Sarah Snook), an obstetrician who is co-parenting her daughter Mia (Lily LaTorre) with her ex-husband, Peter (Damon Herriman). Mia is a precocious child who has started to take an interest in her family and its traumatic history. Much of that has to do with Sarah’s mother, Joan (Greta Scacchi), who has been suffering from dementia for years now. From the viewer’s standpoint, we know very little about Sarah’s past, which is where Kent’s script excels, by releasing tiny reveals, like a good mystery thriller, of the happenings that lead to their family’s dark backstory. As the film makes headway, Mia begins to refer to herself as Alice, Sarah’s younger sister who went missing when she was a small child.
Sarah has never discussed her family trauma with her “Bunny,” a pet name her parents gave Mia. How is this possible? Sarah begins to wonder if her ex-husband is telling Mia about her past as some power play or if Sarah is talking in her sleep. Either way, her adorable little girl develops a case of oppositional defiant disorder seemingly out of nowhere, frequently becoming uncooperative, rebellious, and hostile toward her mother as she continues to stake her claim as her mother’s lost sister. Mia’s teachers even become concerned, saying the child’s extreme anxiety leads to her gothic and morbid drawings on the back of her school assignments.
Daina Reid knows something about psychological horror, having received a 2019 Emmy nomination for Outstanding Directing for a Drama Series for her work on The Handmaid’s Tale. (Reportedly, Elisabeth Moss was set to star in Reid’s film but backed out because of scheduling conflicts.) Darkly atmospheric, with a chilling score by Mark Bradshaw and Marcus Whale, Run Rabbit Run has all the visual and auditory splendors when it comes to a compelling psychological horror thriller. Also, the obsession with putting a child in danger will naturally lend itself to the viewers easily feeling a sense of dread and uneasiness.
However, while you may think you are in for a psychological horror steeped in imagery, Kent’s script repeatedly begins to use the same scenes of Sarah confronting Mia about knowing family secrets and wanting to be called Alice. This happens at least a half dozen times and is not even used as an effective storytelling tool to reveal new information and advance the story. Every time it happens, Mia puts on her bunny mask, and Snook’s Sarah becomes agitated and accidentally injures her child. The same scenario repeats itself, which becomes monotonous and unpleasant. And by the film’s third act, the reveal is rather apparent, turning it into a generic thriller. Even a secondary reveal that can be seen as abstract is completely illogical since this would be the first place anyone would look at when someone goes missing.
Reid and Kent’s mistake is immersing the viewer in Australian horror themes and symbolism without fine-tuning the story’s plot for errors and varying the scenes involving psychological horror. For instance, the constant appearance of a giant white rabbit holds significance in the land of Down Under, as its introduction has resulted in overgrazing and devastating impacts on the country’s indigenous flora and fauna. The statement about overpopulation seems evident, as humans also contribute to overpopulation. Additionally, Australian gothic themes such as repression, being bound by secrets and lies, the conflict between nature and culture, and even elements of mysticism make appearances. While one can appreciate the filmmakers’ attempt to incorporate unique Australian cultural themes, the overall experience feels like camouflage for a derivative thriller. What Run Rabbit Run is really about is a metaphor for a child’s vicarious trauma, but that point is muddled and not at all brought to the forefront as it should have been.
The film has a small cast, and these are all fairly standard horror performances. I will say Snook’s mental well-being crumbling in front of our eyes is startlingly effective. Yet, by the film’s end, the monotonous, unpleasant repetitiveness goes from a killer creepy yarn to a mundane psychological horror thriller imitation we have seen done better in Australian horror fares like Relic and The Babadook. Run Rabbit Run would have been better off with an increased focus on the family’s dark past and highlighting the vicarious trauma angle to enhance the viewer’s experience and the depth of its themes.
