Smile

Released in 2022, Smile by Parker Finn is a film that plays with the threshold between momentary fright and unsettling reflection. While it draws heavily on horror conventions — such as loud jump scares or the lineage of “replicable evil” seen in classics like The Ring and It Follows — the film makes a genuine effort to address emotional trauma, even if it does so unevenly.

At the center of the story is Rose Cotter, played by Sosie Bacon, whose performance is, without a doubt, the film’s greatest strength. Bacon navigates a path from clinical composure to a woman increasingly consumed by racing thoughts and the fear of her own reflection. It’s a subtle transformation — she doesn’t scream, but she reveals inner horror in the way she moves and reacts. There’s no overacting, just a slow emotional erosion that becomes the film’s emotional engine.

Finn’s direction relies on Dutch angles and subdued, almost neutral lighting, allowing the supernatural to slowly infiltrate everyday spaces. The effect is not to shock, but to disquiet — to invite the viewer to sit with their own fears, even while in a movie theater. The problem lies in the balance: too many sound-based scares dilute the atmosphere, making the film feel at times more formulaic than immersive.

The film’s attempt to address trauma leans more toward intention than depth. The curse at the story’s core feeds on past pain — a metaphor for the invisible emotional damage many carry. Smile succeeds in turning this metaphor into a visual motif: the act of smiling as a mask for anguish, something both fleeting and permanent. One particularly memorable and grotesque moment — a patient with a frozen grin violently stabbing her own face — lingers in the mind long after the credits roll.

However, the script lacks subtlety. Some transitions are abrupt, and the film’s persistent cool-toned aesthetic can be visually fatiguing. Narratively, there’s a constant sense of déjà vu. The references to The Ring, It Follows, and Oculus are obvious, and the film walks a thin line between homage and derivation — a line that, for some, holds steady, but for others, feels like a shortcut around originality.

The pacing flirts with the slow burn style, but the repeated jump scares often break immersion. The score, deliberately discordant and at times grating, amplifies the discomfort — although, depending on your threshold for intensity, it may do more harm than good. Still, when the horror truly lands — with a burst of surprise or a chilling image — Smile hits hard.

Between its successes and shortcomings, the film holds together thanks to its symbolic layer: the predatory smile as a mask for inner pain, and trauma as an infectious force. Its visuals and Bacon’s contained, grounded performance keep it afloat when the plot veers too close to the familiar. In the end, Smile emerges as a film that is, in many ways, “sadistically effective.” It shines in moments of genuine dread and haunting imagery, but falters through overused tropes and structural repetition.

The highlight comes in a striking moment: Rose hears her name, turns toward a mirror, and realizes the grinning face is her own. It’s a brief yet harrowing image, encapsulating the film’s central terror — that the mind, when wounded, can become the very instrument of suffering. That combination of restrained acting and visual horror is what ultimately makes Smile relevant. A visually sophisticated, emotionally resonant work that still wrestles between true originality and the conventions it so clearly inherits.



Smile (2022 / USA)
Direction: Parker Finn
Screenplay: Parker Finn
Cast: Sosie Bacon, Jessie T. Usher, Kyle Gallner, Caitlin Stasey, Kal Penn, Rob Morgan
Running Time: 115 min.