Drew Burnett Gregory is back at TIFF, reporting daily with queer movie reviews from one of the world’s most prestigious film festivals. Follow along for her coverage of the best in LGBTQ+ cinema and beyond.
An estranged queer person returns home due to an illness or a death. This is probably the most common gay film trope right after “doomed romance where one or both are straight married.” But Samuel Van Grisen’s Went Up the Hill approaches this narrative in a way we’ve never seen before — and not just because there’s a ghost.
Jack (Dacre Montgomery) barely remembers his mother, Elizabeth, who gave him up at a young age. But when he gets a call from his mother’s recent widow (Vicky Krieps) inviting him to the funeral, he travels to their remote New Zealand town to attend. Except once he arrives, the widow claims to not have invited him — to not even know he existed.
Jill allows Jack to stay out of what appears to be a sense of obligation — and curiosity. Then, on the first night they’re both in the house, the hauntings begin. Elizabeth starts to appear, desperate for something from both Jack and Jill before moving on in death. As our nursery rhyme pair navigates these encounters, they grow closer and begin to reveal exactly the kind of person Elizabeth was as a mother and a wife.
Immediately, expectations are subverted by the mother’s queerness. When Jack first arrives, it seems possible his estrangement is due to his queerness thanks to a confrontational aunt (Sarah Peirse who gives a standout performance in her short scenes). But Jill’s own queerness and knowledge of Elizabeth’s queerness shifts the usual dynamic.
As the film continues, Elizabeth begins to appear less Casper, more Conjuring. Her behavior in life was violent and her behavior in death continues this abuse. It’s rare to get a movie that honestly engages with an abusive queer person, and it’s especially sharp to see an instance where the person’s victims are also queer. Queer people often face abuse from one another, but in an attempt to push back on stereotypes, this has rarely been shown on-screen. It’s especially exciting to see it portrayed with nuance and formal risk-taking. There are moments in this film that are genuinely terrifying — the story oscillating between quiet drama and horror movie.
This is a humorless film. While there are moments of absurdity, everything is approached with total sincerity and a dour tone. At times, this can make the film exhausting. Once it’s revealed that the film is about abuse, this exhaustion feels pointed. But it still makes this a difficult watch.
The cinematography is gorgeous and the sound design and score are deeply effective. It’s the pacing — especially the drawn out ending and some unnecessary flashbacks — that weaken what is otherwise a fascinating work of queer art.
Still, I found myself excited by the film as a whole. Despite its imperfections, it’s portraying queer narratives we don’t often see and doing so with unique storytelling and a confident style.
When most movies about queer people reuniting with estranged family still hit the expected beats, it’s a relief to watch a movie where a young man is possessed by the horny ghost of his mother.
Is dacre nude In the film?