The Other People

One of the reasons why we share stories, as films and in other ways, is to provide frameworks through which to understand the world. William (Bryce Johnson) and Rachel (Lyndie Greenwood) are reading Alice In Wonderland to eight-year-old Abby (Valentina Lucido). “Remember in the end Alice wakes up in time for tea,” Rachel tells William when trying to reassure him that it’s okay for the girl to have a fantasy life. But this story is based on real events, and in reality, those comforting frameworks cannot be relied upon.

Rachel isn’t part of the picture when we first meet the father and daughter, as they move into their new home. It’s the girl who finds her, in the school where he’s just started work, where she teaches dance. Greenwood is a dancer herself, which enables her to bring an energising physicality to the role. We skip ahead fairly quickly to the point where the three are living together as a family. Used to working with kids, Rachel easily shifts into a maternal role, easing the pain that they carry from the death of Abby’s mother, and William does a good job of extending his trust, but he can’t stop worrying about what he refers to as Abby’s ‘obsession’ with her invisible friend. How can she make real friends when she’s always talking about Eric? When she’s in her room he can hear her talking to Eric. It’s almost as if there really were somebody else living in the house with them.

Oh, wait...

Between its title and it screening as part of the Fantaspoa line-up, The Other People isn’t really keeping secrets. Its opening scene sees the house surrounded by police tape, with a man who has a serious case of detective face (and subsequently turns out to be Rachel’s father) exploring it. Then there’s the strange business of the family’s neighbour sleeping not in her house but in a trailer in her garden; and the unusual number of missing persons in the area. Preoccupied with childrearing and new love, William and Rachel don’t catch on as fast as they should. The stakes are raised when Abby begins to talk about a bad man coming into her room at night, and we’re reminded what the familiar filmic device of children not being listen to all too often means in real life.

This is, of course, the sort of of subject matter commonly associated with TV movies, and director Chad McClarnon has to work hard to differentiate his film from that. This is perhaps the reason for some of his more discomfiting choices, such as a scene in which a boy is tortured by having his hand forced onto a hot hob. The shadowy cinematography and somewhat overwrought sound design both seem to be aimed at pushing the film into the horror genre. A subplot in which a work colleague takes a sexual interest in William threatens to pull it in the other direction. Ultimately. McClarnon’s biggest advantage lies in his cast.

Greenwood has come up through TV but she’s more than capable of carrying a film like this on the big screen. She’s in 90% of the scenes, quite a few of them by herself, and she succeeds in holding viewer attention even during the weaker moments in the narrative. She’s also good at navigating tricky exploration of privilege in which she is, at different times, both a winner and a loser. Young Lucido is also impressive, especially at conveying fear, approaching it in such a way that viewers can relate to Abby’s situation rather than understanding her simply as an object for the adults to protect.

Once the mystery part of the film is over and Rachel is confronting the threat directly, the film loses its balance a little, overstating a case which would have been more believable if more were left to the imagination. A creepy montage scene close to the end is much more effective than the speechmaking, and would have been stronger still without it. That said, The Other People is an atmospheric film that will stay with you emotionally for some time after the credits roll.

Reviewed on: 20 Apr 2025