Ever ponder the futility of existence while watching a horror movie? I have. Jack Superblack here, questioning the meaning of life, one poorly executed jump scare at a time. I watched "Imaginary" so you don't have to—or should you? Maybe it's just another chance to see how we're all careening towards the abyss, just like Jessica (let's call her Jane Doe to protect the innocent) and her stuffed childhood bear friend (Mr. Horribilis, shall we say?).
"Imaginary" is a film that could've been an allegorical masterpiece, had I not been so distracted by my own existential thoughts. Little Alice (Braun, but we'll call her Phoebe) is all giggles with Mr. Horribilis. Meanwhile, Jane Doe grapples with the baggage of the past that's about as heavy as my will to live—light and fluctuating.
As events unfold, Jane Doe encounters specters of her youth, while I encounter the specters of last night's dinner refusing to become a fond memory. Phoebe engages in mischievous escapades with Mr. Horribilis that remind me of my own imaginary friends. At least they stick around until the end, unlike my high school sweethearts or my rapidly declining serotonin levels.
The rebellious teen and guitar-plucking hubby add as much to the plot as contemplating the nutritional value of consuming silica gel. Spoiler alert: neither's recommended, but at least one won't leave you in an existential quandary.
In conclusion, "Imaginary" is akin to life—promising beginnings, meandering middles, and an end that sneaks up on you. It's irony, really. Seeking meaning in a horror movie is like seeking warmth in the embrace of an icicle—or an accountant. And in the spirit of the film, I'll leave you with a morbid joke: Why don't we play hide and seek with death? Because in the end, we hide and death seeks—but does it ever find us? In my case, it's bound to be alone.
Based on the original article "‘Imaginary’ Review: Bear Necessity".
