Presence (2024)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: Lucy Liu, Chris Sullivan, Callina Liang, Eddy Maday

Have I Seen It Before: Nope. In the chaos of the early part of this year, I missed it in theaters* during its original run, and it’s been bouncing around the Beyond the Cabin in the Woods schedule all year.

Did I Like It: For the first few minutes, I was prepared to not like it at all. An entire movie from the fish-eye lens POV of a ghost. Like the Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) of the Paranormal Activity franchise?

All right, that sounds terrific. I found the whole thing haunting in a sad way (perhaps we should call that “haunting with a small h”?) as it proceeded.

And then the ball drops, and…

Well, I think a spoiler alert—not customary in these reviews—is probably warranted here.

You good? Okay.

The ghost can travel through time, it appears. Indeed, one of the human characters is the ghost. I’ve been thinking a lot about it since watching it. If I had Soderbergh here, I’m sure he would insist that the ghost was always, is always, and would always be the Tyler (Maday), the son of the Payne family who moves into the house**. That’s the straight ahead interpretation of the film from its opening moments to its close.

However.

What if that isn’t the case? My personal head canon is that as we watch the film, the presence is actually the daughter, Chloe (Liang). As the plot unfurls, she begs for deliverance from her grim fate from anyone who will list, including her passed-out brother. Tyler meets the challenge, leaps to his death, and then becomes the Presence just in time for Lucy Liu to let America know she wouldn’t mind a few awards, if anybody has some lying around.

The film as presented seems to make us want to think that the Presence is able to move on to whatever is next after deeply upsetting their mother, but wouldn’t this all lead to a recursive plot loop, where Tyler wants to make amends for his own demise, only to have Chloe perish and then want to change things, over and over again, ad infinitum?

If God was ever terribly interested in punishing me for all eternity, a loop like that might be the ticket.

*But somehow made a point to catch Black Bag (2025). Weird.

**Honestly, if the human desire to lust after too-good-to-be-true real estate deals, the entire horror genre would collapse in on itself.

Black Bag (2025)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: Cate Blanchett, Michael Fassbender, Marisa Abela, Tom Burke

Have I Seen it Before: Never. Brand new. I really got to pick up my pace with the new releases. This year has been weird.

Did I Like It: I was probably going to like this film, however it ultimately turned out. I’m a supreme sucker for those times when Soderbergh feels the need to reach for something with a mainstream sheen. I had patience for the Ocean’s movies far longer than anyone else.

But there’s something oddly refreshing about the film beyond that which is worthy of note. Do I seem needlessly geriatric if I say that the mere act of going to a new movie that isn’t a cheap horror movie and/or comic book is refreshing enough? Probably not, as I do also enjoy those kinds of movies, but this experience was certainly nice. Also, the fact that it was only just-over ninety minutes long, it hardly had any time to wear out its welcome. That one makes me seem hopelessly immature. Trying to have all the right opinions is exhausting sometimes.

Beyond all that, the film has a fascinating concept at its core. A stylish spy thriller is always fun, but I’m bereft of another example of a spy story fueled by two characters who are pointedly committed to their marriage. Obviously one can ignore the Bond series*, or even the Mission: Impossible films. One can even set aside a film like Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2005) or True Lies (1994) would fit the bill, as they’re both about a marriage breaking apart under espionage and intrigue. Those who go up against George Woodhouse (Fassbender) and Kathryn St. Jean (Blanchett) come up short because their marriage is impenetrable.

*Incidentally, I think Pierce Brosnan is not getting enough credit (story of his life, probably) for not showing a hint of his Bond in a role we all might have forgiven him for doing so. As all my reviews for the Bond franchise up until this point are done, this may be my first opportunity to say this, but: With all due respect to him, if the new powers that be in the franchise want to do an “Old Man Bond” story, first, I think No Time To Die (2021) probably covered a lot of that ground, and I would really prefer a third Dalton movie in any event.

Ocean's Thirteen (2007)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Al Pacino

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure. Come to think of it, a bunch of college friends in that summer after we all graduated went to see it when we couldn’t get in for Transformers (2007). Even though we ended up with the better choice, I still felt the need to admonish the people lined up* who managed to get tickets before us for being too obsessed with robots that are also cars.

Did I Like It: Even though we ended up with the better choice, it’s hard to avoid viewing this as the weakest of the Ocean’s movies. I so admired Ocean’s Twelve (2004) for conscientiously avoiding the trappings of the sublime first movie in the series. But here we are now, back to creating mischief in a casino. The fact that they’re not trying to actually steal anything, and simply want to bring ruin to the most odious and powerful casino magnate in Nevada (Pacino, who we’ve apparently never heard of before in two previous films) doesn’t change enough to make this demonstrably feel like a re-tread.

The cast has also reached critical mass, which always seemed inevitable. Julia Roberts and Catherine Zeta-Jones disappear under cover a few quick lines of dialogue, as if their importance to the proceedings in the last two films was a mirage this whole time.

Now, that is a lot of complaining for a film that—for being the weakest entry in a trilogy—might very well be the best weakest entry of a trilogy ever made. The style is there. The fun is there. The misdirection is there. Asking for more might be a little greedy.

*God, it’s been so long since I’ve had to stand in line at a multiplex. I don’t miss it.

Ocean's Twelve (2004)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Catherine Zeta-Jones

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. There was probably a minute there right after W. won re-election that this was the big thing I was looking forward to in life.

Did I Like It: The fundamental truth is that your mileage with film is going to be directly related to how much you can tolerate a third act that largely hinges on Julia Roberts playing someone who is trying to impersonate Julia Roberts. I’m not going to say it will depend on whether you like that plot development, because if you’re reading this review, you’re a reasonable person and that plot element isn’t going to work for you.

Now, if you can get over the film’s one, glaring flaw, it might very well be the superlative entry in the series. The plot—when it isn’t descending (and admitting it is doing so) into b-minus sitcom territory—surprises. The mise-en-scéne is also frequently a delightful surprise. Everyone would have accepted or at least forgiven if this sequel was just a cynical re-hash of Ocean’s Eleven (2001) (don’t worry, we’ll get there) but this plays out like a holiday tentpole movie that has all the trappings of a light foreign film that most of the audience would never see in the first place.

This is not to say that all of what worked in the first film is abandoned. The chemistry among the thieves and between Pitt and Zeta-Jones and Clooney and Roberts all crackles, and the old-fashioned movie-star cool exuded here is never not a pleasure to watch. Just as the way Clooney orders a double whiskey in the first film lives in my head rent free for the rest of time, so too have I never seen a movie star live so comfortably in his own skin than Clooney does in his final confrontation with Toulour (Vincent Cassel). Every time I see that scene, I am convinced that if I could ever be as comfortable as that man is at that moment, all the problems of my life would simply drift away. It was apparently filmed at Clooney’s own villa, so he very nearly wet method with feeling right at home in his surroundings.

If only they didn’t have to have the whole Julia Roberts is Julia Roberts thing, it might have gone down as one of the all-time greats.

Ocean’s Eleven (2001)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: George Clooney, Matt Damon, Brad Pitt, Andy Garcia

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: What is the goal of a movie like this? Soderbergh is at the helm, so one might think—without any other information—that something highbrow is in the offing. But no, this film has no ambition greater than the original Ocean’s 11 (1960). Be as cool as possible with as many stars as you can get in the same room at the same time.

Thus, the movie might be the most successful film Soderbergh has ever made.

The film refreshed the heist picture, injecting it with enough of the same action which made the Mission: Impossible franchise such an action staple. Come to think of it, that series didn’t really get its stuff together until several years after this movie was release. The influence probably goes the other way, in all honesty. I started out this review not needing more from the film than what it delivers at face value, but it probably has a lot more to answer for in the modern sense of what action movies have become.

But it’s the little things which have brought me back to the film over and over again. Has there ever been a better way to order a drink than when Clooney orders whiskey? He drops in on Tess (Julia Roberts, overpowered in the film, but I’ve never thought she had much charisma in anything, so it actually works out for the best) and orders a whiskey and a whiskey. I just... I don’t even like whiskey, and if I ever live to be half as cool as that, I’ll have used my time wisely.

Maybe more independently-minded purveyors of more complicated pieces of cinematic fare. Soderbergh here might be slumming it, but with his perfunctory work, he does far better than most filmmakers content to just work in popcorn fare. Maybe Ingmar Bergman should have made a Rock Hudson/Doris Day comedy. Sergei Eisentstein should have made a Chaplin comedy. Maybe Martin Scorsese

No, that shouldn’t happen. This movie’s still worth a look if you haven’t taken it in already, and it’s better than you probably remember.