The Babadook (2014), the directorial debut of Jennifer Kent, is not just a horror film—it’s a raw, poetic examination of grief, motherhood, and mental illness, cloaked in the chilling shape of a storybook monster.
Set in suburban Australia, the film follows Amelia (Essie Davis), a widowed mother barely coping with the death of her husband and the increasing behavioral problems of her young son, Samuel. When a mysterious pop-up book titled Mister Babadook appears in their home, things begin to unravel. Samuel insists the Babadook is real. Amelia wants to believe it’s just a manifestation of nightmares. But soon, the line between imagination and reality begins to crack.
The creature itself—pale-faced, top-hatted, and lurking in the shadows—is terrifying not just in form, but in function. It doesn’t merely haunt—it feeds on pain, thrives on repression, and grows stronger the more it's denied. The Babadook becomes an allegory for unprocessed trauma, for the darkness we refuse to face.
Essie Davis delivers a powerhouse performance as a woman unraveling under the weight of loss and isolation. Her descent is uncomfortable, heart-wrenching, and brutally honest. The film avoids cheap scares in favor of creeping dread, using silence, shadow, and psychological breakdown as its sharpest tools.
The Babadook is horror with purpose. It dares to suggest that monsters are real—not in the closet, but inside us. And the only way to survive them… is to acknowledge them.
Because if it’s in a word, or it’s in a look,
You can’t get rid of
The Babadook.
