Watch the trailer for Netflix’s Eli below.
They are putting their faith in Dr. Isabella Horn (Lili Taylor), who runs an experimental program for kids like Eli. But everything about her treatment is suspicious to this traumatized boy. Far from hospitals or even civilization, Dr. Horn has transformed a grand old mansion into a clean house, complete with an operating room customized for a series of peculiar procedures. At first glance, it is a frightening place of dark corners and cavernous rooms. Right away, Eli is spooked by what his eye snags in the shadows. From there, phantom breaths fog his bedroom window. Messages are scratched on his door. And ghastly ghost children with gaping wounds stalk him in the night. Yet with each occurrence, the grown-ups assure him it’s all in his head. They explain hallucinations are a side effect of the medicine.
Within this premise, screenwriters David Chirchirillo, Ian Goldberg, and Richard Naing combine body horror spectacle with ghostly scares and cerebral thrills. Eli’s affliction makes his body a hell he cannot escape, and the physical manifestations of his pain are so blistering that your own flesh may crawl. On top of this gleeful grossness, Foy expertly executes the scary fun of a haunted house. Eli is at its best in these bits, playing into audience expectations with ruthless patience. You — like Eli — notice a shadowy figure in the distance, and so are alert, waiting for the jump scare that is sure to come. But it won’t come quick! And so, your stomach flips, your pulse races, your mouth goes dry as you wait, wait, wait. When it finally comes, the rush of relief comes with a scream that makes your lips tremble then crack into a twisted grin. It’s delicious.
There’s also a hint of psychological edge. From the first frame, we are bound to Eli and his perspective, as the film begins in his dream. So as the grown-ups gang up on him, insisting what he’s seeing isn’t real, we too are forced to question what we see with our own two eyes. For instance, what about the smirking redhead (Stranger Things’ Sadie Sink) who whispers to Eli through closed windows and urges him toward rebellion? Is she a ghost? A figment of his imagination? Or something else altogether?
The first act of the film is fiercely foreboding. The second act is electric with scares, which caused this critic to curl up and cry out and love every second of it. But things escalate quickly, barreling through the body horror, ghost kids, and mind-bending bits to Eli’s fourth and final subgenre in act three. To save you from spoilers, I won’t hint any further. But like the film, I’ve left some clues along the way.
To the cast’s credit, they handle this final turn with aplomb, bending performances that began as grounded to something more theatrical and fiery. Shotwell ably shoulders the central role, shrieking in pain and terror one moment, then finding his footing as Eli arrives at his fateful finale. Taylor’s enigmatic performance comes into focus, while Martini and Reilly turn up the intensity. Yet the standout is Sink, who relishes every bit of this movie’s malevolent route. Her smirking charisma makes her an instantly fascinating figure, and thereby the perfect guide to hold Eli’s hand — and ours — through this twisted journey.