Relic (2020)
Official Synopsis
When elderly Edna suddenly disappears, her daughter Kay and granddaughter Sam return to the family’s secluded home to find her. Although Edna eventually returns, something isn’t right. As her behavior becomes increasingly unsettling and a strange presence begins to take hold of the house, three generations of women are forced to confront a terrifying reality that is as emotionally devastating as it is frightening.
William’s Review
When Amy and I first watched Relic back in 2020, we both walked away saying it was a really good haunted house movie. Watching it again a few years later was a completely different experience. Between our first viewing and this rewatch, we both lost grandparents. That changed this movie for me in a way I wasn’t expecting.
On the surface, Relic works as a creepy haunted house movie. The house is dark, it’s constantly making noises, there’s something growing inside the walls, and Natalie Erika James does a great job making you question what’s actually happening. Is there something supernatural in the house, or is everything tied to Edna’s declining memory? That uncertainty creates a lot of tension before the movie ever tries to scare you.
What impressed me most is how naturally the horror builds. It never feels like the movie suddenly decides to become something different. It starts as a psychological haunted house story and slowly grows into something much bigger. By the end, everything still feels earned because every strange moment along the way has been building toward it.
Natalie Erika James also knows how to use practical effects. The physical transformation throughout the movie looks incredibly real, and because it feels tangible, it’s that much more unsettling. There are moments that fall into body horror, but they never feel like they’re there just for shock value. Everything serves the story.
What really elevated the movie for me this time, though, was the family dynamic. Every character is dealing with Edna’s condition differently, and nobody feels wrong. Kay is frustrated because she’s watching her mother become someone she barely recognizes. Sam is more patient and compassionate. They’re both reacting the only way they know how, and I thought the movie handled that with a lot of honesty.
That’s what makes Relic so special to me. If you’ve never experienced dementia in your own family, you’ll probably come away with a really effective haunted house movie. If you have, the movie becomes something else entirely. The horror starts feeling secondary because the emotional story underneath it becomes impossible to ignore.
I love horror that works on more than one level, and I think Relic is one of the best examples of that. It’s creepy, emotional, beautifully acted, and much deeper than it first appears. It’s also one of those rare movies that actually became better for me on a second viewing because life had changed the way I connected with it.
On the surface, Relic works as a creepy haunted house movie. The house is dark, it’s constantly making noises, there’s something growing inside the walls, and Natalie Erika James does a great job making you question what’s actually happening. Is there something supernatural in the house, or is everything tied to Edna’s declining memory? That uncertainty creates a lot of tension before the movie ever tries to scare you.
What impressed me most is how naturally the horror builds. It never feels like the movie suddenly decides to become something different. It starts as a psychological haunted house story and slowly grows into something much bigger. By the end, everything still feels earned because every strange moment along the way has been building toward it.
Natalie Erika James also knows how to use practical effects. The physical transformation throughout the movie looks incredibly real, and because it feels tangible, it’s that much more unsettling. There are moments that fall into body horror, but they never feel like they’re there just for shock value. Everything serves the story.
What really elevated the movie for me this time, though, was the family dynamic. Every character is dealing with Edna’s condition differently, and nobody feels wrong. Kay is frustrated because she’s watching her mother become someone she barely recognizes. Sam is more patient and compassionate. They’re both reacting the only way they know how, and I thought the movie handled that with a lot of honesty.
That’s what makes Relic so special to me. If you’ve never experienced dementia in your own family, you’ll probably come away with a really effective haunted house movie. If you have, the movie becomes something else entirely. The horror starts feeling secondary because the emotional story underneath it becomes impossible to ignore.
I love horror that works on more than one level, and I think Relic is one of the best examples of that. It’s creepy, emotional, beautifully acted, and much deeper than it first appears. It’s also one of those rare movies that actually became better for me on a second viewing because life had changed the way I connected with it.
Amy’s Review
The first time I watched Relic, I thought it was a really creepy haunted house movie. Watching it again hit me completely differently.
Since that first viewing, we’ve both lost grandparents, and I don’t think you can go through something like that without seeing this movie in a new light. It stopped feeling like a horror movie about an old woman in a haunted house and started feeling like a movie about watching someone you love slowly disappear. That doesn’t mean it isn’t scary, because it absolutely is.
I actually watched most of the second half by myself because William was busy, and there were a couple of times I almost turned it off and waited for him to finish it with me. I was that uncomfortable. If it hadn’t been broad daylight, I probably would’ve.
The thing that got me the most wasn’t even the jump scares. It was all the little things. The strange noises in the house. Looking into dark corners wondering if something was standing there. Doors moving. Every time I thought something might be hiding in the background, I found myself staring behind the characters instead of watching what they were doing.
Then there are the parts that played into my own fears. There’s a sequence where the house starts changing in a way that made me feel incredibly claustrophobic. I actually had to look away because I could feel myself getting anxious just watching it.
The performances also deserve a lot of credit. Nobody overreacts, and nobody feels like they’re just there to move the story along. The relationship between the grandmother, mother, and granddaughter feels real, and because of that, all of the emotional moments hit even harder.
I also love that this movie can mean different things depending on who’s watching it. If you’ve never dealt with dementia in your own family, you’ll probably see a really creepy haunted house movie. If you have, I think you’ll see something much more personal.
It’s one of those horror movies that sticks with you after it’s over, not because of one scary scene, but because of what it’s really about underneath all of the horror. That’s what stayed with me long after the credits rolled.
Since that first viewing, we’ve both lost grandparents, and I don’t think you can go through something like that without seeing this movie in a new light. It stopped feeling like a horror movie about an old woman in a haunted house and started feeling like a movie about watching someone you love slowly disappear. That doesn’t mean it isn’t scary, because it absolutely is.
I actually watched most of the second half by myself because William was busy, and there were a couple of times I almost turned it off and waited for him to finish it with me. I was that uncomfortable. If it hadn’t been broad daylight, I probably would’ve.
The thing that got me the most wasn’t even the jump scares. It was all the little things. The strange noises in the house. Looking into dark corners wondering if something was standing there. Doors moving. Every time I thought something might be hiding in the background, I found myself staring behind the characters instead of watching what they were doing.
Then there are the parts that played into my own fears. There’s a sequence where the house starts changing in a way that made me feel incredibly claustrophobic. I actually had to look away because I could feel myself getting anxious just watching it.
The performances also deserve a lot of credit. Nobody overreacts, and nobody feels like they’re just there to move the story along. The relationship between the grandmother, mother, and granddaughter feels real, and because of that, all of the emotional moments hit even harder.
I also love that this movie can mean different things depending on who’s watching it. If you’ve never dealt with dementia in your own family, you’ll probably see a really creepy haunted house movie. If you have, I think you’ll see something much more personal.
It’s one of those horror movies that sticks with you after it’s over, not because of one scary scene, but because of what it’s really about underneath all of the horror. That’s what stayed with me long after the credits rolled.