Traumatika

A vicious demon is let loose in a broken home, one where the father inflicts unspeakable acts of terror on his own blood, forever haunting traumatised survivor Abigail (Rebekah Kennedy) and her younger sibling Alice (Emily Goss). Told across multiple time jumps, Traumatika explores the generational impact of trauma with some atmospheric chills, found-footage scares, and commentary on exploitative true crime dramas.

Traumatika lives up to its name with boundary-pushing horror, even if some might find it provocative. In his second feature, horror filmmaker Pierre Tsigaridis (Two Witches) isn’t welcoming his audiences with open arms. Rather, he pulls them into an unflinching darkness right from the very beginning with the prologue text outlining the five stages of childhood trauma and abuse. And with an on-the-nose title like Traumatika, you can expect a lot of vile and violent things unleashed at characters right, left, and centre, even if they are minors. And yet despite its ability to squirm our insides and clench our butt, Traumatika isn’t just blatant shock value (at least for most of its duration). With one horrendous act giving way to another, this could have very well been cut in the same cloth as puke-inducing gorefests like A Serbian Film (or Eli Roth’s Hostel franchise if you need a tamer example). But Traumatika isn’t just a grim and grotesque work of possession horror but also a slow-burning tale of the after-effects of trauma.

Powered by Rebekah Kennedy’s terrific emotional range, Abigail rises above familiar tragic heroine tropes to become a profoundly empathetic survivor. Here’s a woman who lost her youth early on and has been driven to serve a higher demonic presence against her will. As Abigail transforms from a victim into a misunderstood monster, you can’t help but linger on about the haunting aftermath of childhood abuse, be it in the realm of familiar Exorcist-influenced supernaturalism or just real life. Sure, Tsigaridis’s approach to blurring the literal and metaphorical definitions of trauma can be a bit clunky when he’s also focusing on scaring the living daylights out of midnight screening audiences. From the nightmarish grins of a demon resembling the orc-like humanoids of The Descent to Abigail’s descent into madness in a dingy cabin, Traumatika is filled with impressive jump scares. However, underneath the formulaic but effective titillation, the film’s emotional core allows Traumatika to be a decent attempt at unpacking the loss of innocence. Demonic possession is heavily abundant in the genre, especially with creative low-budget indie horrors like Traumatika. But only a few dare to scratch beyond the violence. Watching a possessed Regan puke out pea soup at a pastor in The Exorcist makes for a thrilling sight, but how does Regan deal with that horrifying body-invasion once the demon is out? Traumatika occasionally strives to tap into such answers, and that’s when it shines the most.

A challenging first half, let down by some dark comedy and conventional slasher thrills. Despite a strong first half full of blood-curdling tension and emotionally broken protagonists, Traumatika does lose steam towards its third act. With a time jump fixated on the true crime-ificication of Abigail’s traumatic life, Traumatika raises some good points on reality TV’s shameless exploitation of human lives for the sake of ratings. Alas, that’s some consumerist satire that we’re already too familiar with (or even guilty of) at a time when there’s a new shocking true crime doc dropping on streaming almost every week. In its attempt to capture that capitalist fetishisation, Traumatika changes gears and turns into more of a dark comedy with slasher ketchup-blood gore than the profound psychological horror it promised to be earlier. That sudden change in tone might divide some audiences, but one thing is clear: Tsigaridis is a genre-blender/bender who still has great potential. With Traumatika, he attempts to unite subtext-chasing A24 horror cinephiles with bloodshed-craving slasher fans of, let’s say, Terrifier. Juggling between roles as director, co-writer, editor, and cinematographer, he might not have even satisfied both fronts, but it’s clear that he’s not willing to play safe. And that in itself is worthy of appreciation.