Sometimes mental illness can be just as scary as an angry spirit intent on killing. In Lights Out, we watch as depression and fear threaten to isolate and destroy their hosts. A manic mother, Sophie, traps her son in a home with the blinds drawn, her pills not taken. Her closet is filled with a skeleton of sorts, one that can only be seen in shadow and will only find you in the darkness. Outside of this light bulb devoid house is Rebecca (Teresa Palmer), a young woman running from that depressed nightmare. She’s trying to make a life for herself, and her family just doesn’t factor into this.

Lights Out has its fair share of jump scares, but the atmosphere is more one of desperation than terror. Maria Bello brings out Sophie’s destructive melancholy with agitated manic episodes. There is a twitch to her character that leaves you feeling cold and uncomfortable. The way this depression bleeds into the poor treatment of her children displays just how destructive the disease can be. Add in a vengeful spirit named Diana and you have a powder keg in the suburbs.

In some ways the build up for this movie is formulaic. It starts with a demonstration of the monster’s power. We watch as the characters deny the existence of the monster and are faced with the stark reality of it later. Then we reach the final showdown. Usually in horror movies Act III is where the monster falls apart. A mix of deus ex machina and uncharacteristic combat abilities usually lead to a messy and dissatisfying ending. Lights Out did NOT have that problem. The final battle was compelling and beautifully thought out. Having Diana phase out in the muzzle flash of a gun was an incredible visual moment. The characters all had moments of clever heroism.

The ending is a brutal piece of self sacrifice that has also led to some controversy. When the mother realizes that Diana can only exist because she is in her head, Sophie turns the gun on herself. In one flash the monster is dead and the kids are free. There has been much talk about the authorial intent here. Diana stands as a metaphor for chronic depression, and that specter holds the entire family hostage. Sophie’s suicide is an instant catharsis for her children who can begin to cope with the loss. The children’s burden has been taken away, but at the cost of their mother giving into her struggle. On social media many have called this a pro-suicide message, as well as saying that the movie claims mental illness is an intolerable burden.

It’s not the first time in recent memory that a horror movie has gone into the deep waters of mental illness. The Babadook (which we did a podcast on) may not even have a physical monster, but carried many of the same themes. One has to wonder what David F. Sandberg was trying to say with such a bleak outcome. On one side, it is a horror film so death is to be expected. Yet, other than zombie movies, the solution usually isn’t a loved family member putting a bullet through their own head. It takes special care when dealing with mental illness to not demonize the afflicted to the point where ending their life is the only solution. The A.V. Club believes that they should have let the monster be the monster because of this implication. It is this author’s opinion that the ending was an attempt at a clean ending, not an instruction manual on how to deal with depressed people.

With the film clocking in at a short 81 minutes it doesn’t take quite enough time to explore the consequences of its intent. Despite being so grim, the movie itself has many shining moments. Every main character was likable and realistic. Gabriel Batemen was competent as a child actor and didn’t feel shticky like child roles can often be. Maria Bello and Teresa Palmer look like they could be family and carried the deep seeded animosity very well. Diana, played by Alica Vela-Bailey, was a fine edition to the horror lexicon. Fans of horror should see it, but those on the fence could easily wait for rental and VoD.

Edit: After the writing of this post I found a direct quote from David F. Sandberg on the ending of the film. He had this to say: “When we were starting to talk about making a feature film out of ‘Lights Out,’ I figured I wanted to do something about depression, because I’ve suffered from depression for over a decade now,” explained Sandberg. “And I had a friend who committed suicide. To me, it’s the most terrifying thing there is. So I wrote this treatment for something that was a bit more arthouse, where it was very much an allegory for depression.” With this having been said, it looks like Sandberg was exploring his own thoughts and deepest fears. While the message might be mistaken it seems to be innocuous from this writer’s perspective.

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Tony Southcotte: Tony hails from the Rocky Mountains somewhere around the state of Colorado. Possibly raised by grizzly bears, this gritty denizen of the arena now spends most of his time grappling with Java updates and dysfunctional RAM. With not much fiction under his belt, it might seem tempting to bet against Mister Southcotte, but an impressive knowledge of everything from PVC pipe to psychedelic drugs makes Tony a storehouse of fiction waiting to hit the paper. Plus, you know, there’s the possibility of him ripping you apart like a grizzly bear.