In Alex Henes and Matthew Merenda’s Mind Body Spirit, an aspiring yoga influencer ends up with more smashed than the like button. But can it summon up some screen-life scares?
The screen-life sub-genre of found footage horror is probably as topically relevant as anything could be. From Host to Spree and beyond, holding up a (black) mirror to a dominating part of modern life still offers plenty of exciting potential.
The influencer horror is a veritable goldmine of opportunity. Larger-than-life personalities on camera show another side of it when they’re switched off. Fame-hungry types who will delve into a dark place to become famous. Escalation of risk because the creator is afraid of losing their audience. It’s positively ripe for the picking.
In Mind Body Spirit, Anya (Sarah J. Bartholomew) is a wannabe yoga influencer trying to find her personal style. When her grandmother leaves her house in her will to Anya, she has a chance at a fresh start.
Anya doesn’t know her grandmother, but affection grows as she discovers more about her. The discovery of a secret upstairs room and an old book featuring ”traditional” Slavic wellness exercises helps the connection grow. However, the book may hold more than a few lifestyle tips for Anya.
Mind Body Spirit: A meditation on influencer goals?
We chart Anya’s journey in the house and in her influencer career through the collected (and seemingly unpublished) videos she makes. Occasionally, there’s a little video loading screen to break up segments. So, it’s presented as if we were watching a running playlist of her channel’s videos. It’s an interesting choice, and it works in the footage format found. I wish it consistently felt a bit more organic in where the breaks are.
There’s a heavy reliance on the crutches of the found footage sub-genre. Things appear unseen in the background, there’s friction between the protagonist and those around her, and a few tried and true camera moves. It’s not exactly to its detriment, but it takes a bit away from the more interesting work going on.
Two key things come to mind. The use of a slowly revolving camera shot on a few occasions is effective. The carousel of increasingly disturbing scenes is a real winner. The other comes in the movie’s most violent scene. The anticipation of it happening is pretty standard, but its execution, especially in the sound design, is superb. I genuinely winced at the sound of what was happening.
Sarah J. Bartholomew is a likable lead who gives Anya a sadness that never truly leaves. Even as she joyfully reels off praise to her invisible audience, her delivery has an underlying tragedy. This means her descent into something terrible is more affecting. A troubled past is hinted at, and a fractious relationship with her mother appears to be a catalyst for making big changes in her life.
Her eagerness and genuine desire to help people is her driving force, and makes her something of an outlier in a niche that usually portrays its protagonists as selfish, desperate assholes. The important thing is that it makes you care about Anya’s plight. She’s undeserving of the suffering that is brought upon her, and that makes the horror aspect that bit more meaningful.
Mind Body Spirit doesn’t reinvent the wheel as far as found footage goes, but it does put an interesting spin on the screen-life horror niche with its folk horror flavoring. It could do with leaning a bit less on the tried and trusted methods of the sub-genre, but it’s a good feature-length debut from Henes and Merenda, with a decent base to build a horror career on.
Score: 7/10
As ComingSoon’s review policy explains, a score of 7 equates to ”good”. A successful piece of entertainment that is worth checking out, but it may not appeal to everyone.
Mind Body Spirit is available now on digital platforms.
Mind Body Spirit screener provided for review.
