Review : She Dies Tomorrow (2020)
Do you ever start a film, only to find yourself questioning the choice early on due to a feeling of the narrative having a complete disregard for your ability to understand or conceive of the presented situation before it moves forward without you? For a time, that felt like the experience I was going to have with She Dies Tomorrow, a film that is promoted as sci-fi horror, but feels like something much more vivid and relative to the modern-day human condition. I feel like I could imprint a thousand interpretations onto this film, and maybe that’s what makes it work so well : the richness of your experience is not cushioned by easy answers, but that lack of answers is what pulled me deeper and deeper into my watch.
Amy (Kate Lynn Shell) is a new homeowner displaying characteristics opposite to those of someone who has just made such a large life decision. After an unsettling phone call with her friend Jane (Jane Adams), Amy receives a visit from Jane, and reveals that she will die tomorrow. Jane brushes this off as a part of what appears to be Amy’s relapse into drinking and opts to return home, skipping out on her sister-in-law’s birthday party, but once home, she too begins to obsess on the idea that she will die the next day. With this idea in mind, she shows up at her sister-in-law Susan (Kate Aselton) and brother Jason’s (Chris Messina) home and shares her feelings of eminent death, not only passing on the idea to Susan and Jason, but their party guests Brian (Tunde Adebimpe) and Tilly (Jennifer Kim) as well. As all parties sink deeper into the acceptance of their lingering fate, the idea is spread by their interactions with others, seemingly putting everyone on a countdown towards a visible end.
I don’t want to read too much into She Dies Tomorrow, but I couldn’t shake thoughts about the film being a possible contemplation on the memetic nature and spread of ideas, especially traumatic ones, fictionalized and amplified. In my mind (in terms of how I received the film), we are shown several examples of lives and connections that become totally consumed by a single thought, similar to the way that our social media lives can derail true life progress. The horror comes from how the immediate and full acceptance of these thoughts from all parties involved (and always without question) brings any resemblance of a previous life to a grinding halt. We are shown a wide variety of reactions that lie beneath the still acceptance from each character, including curiosity, self-harm, complacence, dismantling of relationships, reinforcement of relationships and rage.
In terms of style, Amy Seimetz has created a methodical, brooding film with zombie-like participants in suddenly neglected spaces, with character shifts happening suddenly and wholly once the realization hits them. The short glimpses we get of pre-narrative life and character stand in extremely stark comparison with the personalities we become familiar with, post-fate acceptance. The fascinating element comes through in the way that, no matter what level of education, class or skill that a person in the movie may have, the idea that arrives is powerful and all consuming enough to eradicate that and put everyone in the same sad place. Ultimately, we are presented with a mystery box chock-full of questions but severely lacking in answers, but the connected sense of dread keeps viewers intrigued and mesmerized.
A stark use of red, green and blue lights invade the standard world at key moments, making the mental invasion have a much more sinister element to it. The still and deliberate cinematography puts the viewer in direct opposition with the lingering dread, making it impossible to escape or hide from. Amy and her sequin-adorned dress makes her stand out as our point of origin for the oddness, with the remaining cast using varying forms of normal or standard dress to group them all as victims of the fallout. The brief individual character personalities help balance the multiple narratives, as the sameness of their fate would normally make them indistinguishable in the hands of a less nuanced writer and/or director.
Kate Lynn Shell sets the tone with her performance, acting as if she is driven by an unseen hand that directs her to move towards her fate with blind dedication and minimal questioning, as if charged with a mission. Jane Adams infuses tinges of fear into her acceptance, but does not let it alter her sense of duty and dedication to her fate. Katie Aselton and Chris Messina provide examples of the biggest contrasts in personalities, as their vibrant communication becomes muted by their shared acceptance. Tunde Adebimpe mirrors the strong sense of dedication that Kate Lynn Shell presents, which plays into the world of indifference in regards to how he interacts with the preoccupied and guilt-laden nature of Jennifer Kim. Kentucker Audley, Olivia Taylor Dudley, Michelle Rodriguez, Josh Lucas and Adam Wingard round out the cast with supporting appearances.
This film feels like a passion project that benefited from having some considerable financial backing. I could see many people hanging the “boring” tag onto this film, but it feels like these are the kind of people that either will go into it with fixed expectations, or will find themselves so challenged by what they see that the obligation to understand will feel more like a chore than reflection. This is certainly one of the odder films I’ve discovered this year, but it is also one that is high on the list of films that impressed me.
