Presence

Last year, we had In a Violent Nature, a slasher movie told from the killer’s point of view. This year, we have Presence, a ghost story that unfolds from the spirit’s perspective. Director Steven Soderbergh and writer David Koepp use the concept to explore themes of grief, loss, and why people might want to stick around in some form after they die. Running a tight 85 minutes, the film is a real stunner.

The story is comprised of a series of single takes from a moving camera, separated by a couple seconds of black screen. What the audience sees is exactly what the spirit sees. It finds itself inside a beautiful old home. A new family moves in: mom Rebekah (Lucy Liu), dad Chris (Chris Sullivan), and teenage children Tyler (Eddy Maday) and Chloe (Callina Liang). Chloe’s best friend has recently died of a drug overdose, so she’s struggling with depression. She’s also the only one who can sense the spirit.

That may not sound like a full story, but the way Presence unfolds provides all kinds of drama. During the early scenes, the spirit sizes up the family, and various tensions among its members reveal themselves. Those tensions turn into divisions when Chloe starts claiming to detect a ghost. At the same time, she begins a romance with Tyler’s friend Ryan (West Mulholland) that seems driven more by a desire to distract herself than by genuine feelings. Eventually, they bring in a psychic to read the energy in the home, marking the point where an important clue about the spirit’s motivation emerges.

There are a couple instances of overt paranormal action, although their intent isn’t to scare us; it’s to deepen the story’s resonance. People often say they can feel their deceased loved ones hanging around or watching over them. The movie seizes on that idea, suggesting an ongoing connection between the living and the dead. Next to that is a second idea pertaining to the dead having unfinished business that needs to be resolved before they can move on. Watching how the family’s arc weaves together with the spirit’s is what makes Presence so thoroughly captivating, especially during the last act, when events come to their resolution.

Telling the story in this manner was a creative risk. It pays off because Soderbergh gets the camera, which he operated himself, close enough to the characters to register what’s going on, yet keeps it sufficiently removed to create a vital distance that replicates life/death. The viewer essentially becomes the spirit because of how skillfully the film is shot. Even more remarkably, you can sense its urgency, despite a complete lack of dialogue or even a physical appearance onscreen.

For their part, the actors play every scene with complete believability. There isn’t a single moment where anything feels false or staged. The naturalness of their performances brings emotion to the tale. Each member of the family deals with death and the possibility of an afterlife in a different way that’s consistent with their personalities. Callina Liang is the lynchpin, conveying Chloe’s openness to the supernatural with conviction. She’s fantastic.

Presence will hit hard for anyone who has experienced a significant loss in their life. As a ghost story, it’s top-notch. As a meditation on grief and healing, the movie is something that will leave a lasting impression on both your mind and your heart.


out of four

Presence is rated R for violence, drug material, language, sexuality, and teen drinking. The running time is 1 hour and 25 minutes.


© 2025 Mike McGranaghan