Bury the Devil

Adam O’Brien’s *Bury the Devil* is a bold experiment in horror filmmaking, trapping its audience in a single, unbroken take that amplifies the dread of its premise. The film follows a hospice nurse who begins to suspect that her dementia patient is harbouring something far more sinister than illness. What unfolds is a night of escalating terror, as the nurse realises she is not just fighting for survival but confronting an otherworldly force.

The most immediate strength of *Bury the Devil* lies in its technical execution. Cinematographer Benoît Beaulieu’s prowling camerawork creates an oppressive, claustrophobic atmosphere, turning the mundane setting of a hospice into a labyrinth of creeping horror. The decision to shoot the film in one continuous take is not merely a gimmick; it heightens the tension, making every shadow and sudden movement feel like a potential threat.

The production design complements this approach, with the confined spaces and dim lighting adding to the film’s unsettling tone. Editing, while minimal due to the one-take format, is precise, ensuring that the pacing remains taut. The performances are another standout element.

Dawn Ford delivers a compelling turn as the nurse, grounding the film with a mix of professional detachment and growing panic. Her chemistry with Emmanuelle Lussier Martinez, who plays the patient, is electric, particularly as the latter’s behaviour becomes increasingly erratic. The supporting cast, including Bill Rowat and Mark Krupa, add layers to the film’s eerie atmosphere, though their roles are somewhat underwritten.

The screenplay, while not groundbreaking, effectively builds tension and immersion, even if it occasionally relies on familiar possession tropes. The dialogue is functional but serves the story’s atmosphere well, contributing to the film’s relentless sense of dread. The storytelling, while conventional, succeeds in crafting a consistently engaging horror experience.

The background score and sound design are excellent, underscoring the film’s mounting dread without overpowering it. The music and sound—creaking floorboards, distant whispers, and sudden silences—work in tandem with the cinematography to create a film that is as much about what you *feel* as what you *see*. Ultimately, *Bury the Devil* is a film that succeeds as both a technical achievement and a gripping horror experience.

Its one-take approach and strong performances make it a standout in the possession subgenre, offering a tense and atmospheric ride for fans of the genre, even if it doesn’t break entirely new ground in storytelling or character development.