The Twist in The Woman in the Yard Is a New Low for Trauma Horror

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Spoilers ahead for the plot and ending of The Woman in the Yard.

The meme featuring Jamie Lee Curtis’s “trauma” pronunciation became popular for two main reasons. First, her delivery was humorous, and it seemed unusual to say “trow-ma” instead of the typical pronunciation. Second, it effectively encapsulated a prevalent theme in modern horror movies, where monsters symbolize characters’ repressed feelings, hidden sorrows, and, indeed, their traumas. This concept wasn’t exclusively introduced by Blumhouse’s 2018 “Halloween” or other 2010s hits like “The Babadook” and “Hereditary.” In fact, you can trace these metaphors back to numerous earlier classics such as “Don’t Look Now,” “Carrie,” and “Rosemary’s Baby.” However, it’s hard to deny that this theme has become increasingly prominent over the past decade-plus, to the point where horror movies that delve into trauma feel more like the rule than the exception.

As you ponder, it becomes clear that “The Woman in the Yard” sets up its plot points quite early. The recent production from Blumhouse focuses on Ramona, skillfully portrayed by Danielle Deadwyler, who is grappling with the loss of her husband, David (Russell Hornsby), and recovering from a car crash that took his life. Now a single mother to Taylor (Peyton Jackson) and Annie (Estella Kahiha), she’s struggling to maintain their remote farmhouse financially. The arrival of the enigmatic Woman (Okwui Okpokwasili), seated in the yard shrouded from head to toe in black, adds another layer of difficulty to Ramona’s already challenging life. She asserts that she has been summoned by Ramona, stating, “Today is the day. You called and I came.

Ramona attempts to reassure her children that the situation is normal, suggesting the woman could have wandered away from the local care facility. However, her son questions if the woman might be deceased, using a shroud to conceal some grotesque deformities. Yet, in today’s horror genre and specifically within Blumhouse productions, monsters are seldom just monstrous in the conventional sense. Instead, we can infer our own interpretation. This mysterious woman appears to be an embodiment of Ramona’s sorrow: an unwelcome presence that casts a pall over their household and refuses to depart.

In the story of “The Woman in the Yard”, it becomes evident that Ramona’s experiences exceed typical grief. She harbors aggressive thoughts, such as imagining herself stabbing Annie with a butcher knife. She also experiences temporal lapses and is repeatedly transported back to the moment of the event, with broken glass seeming to float around her. While this could be attributed to trauma, Taylor hints that Ramona’s mother is on medication, suggesting a more identifiable condition. Indeed, in the movie’s climax, Ramona swaps places with the Woman, implying they were always connected. The Woman explains that she is the fearful aspects of Ramona’s mind, representing her depression or, more specifically, her suicidal thoughts. Every morning, Ramona prays for strength not to regain control over her life but to find the courage to use David’s gun and end it. In the end, “Today’s the day”, as the Woman aids Ramona in pulling the trigger.

The metaphor of grief being predictable as a twist would have been more acceptable compared to what “The Woman in the Yard” presents: an unsettling depiction of mental illness that portrays Ramona’s depression as a terrifying entity. Deadwyler delivers a compelling, authentic performance, while director Jaume Collet-Serra demonstrates inventive camera work, especially considering the film primarily occurs during daylight with the Woman calmly seated on a chair. However, even exceptional talent doesn’t alleviate the impact of the final scene, where Ramona and her dark self manipulate the shotgun towards her chin together.

In “The Woman in the Yard,” the portrayal of suicide isn’t uncommon in horror genres, but there’s an unsettling aspect to how it handles Ramona’s execution. The movie appears to take pleasure in punishing Ramona, who is depicted as an unreliable narrator and a potential danger to her family. We learn that she was driving during the accident. Throughout the film, she summons a monster into their lives with her wish for someone else to be strong.

The film seems to border on equating suicide with selfishness, as Ramona’s past actions suggest she often puts others before herself. This is emphasized when she tells David that she always does things for others and never for herself. Later, she admits, “We had this vision of a perfect life, and I just couldn’t live it.” It’s challenging not to perceive the movie as casting blame on Ramona, given that so much of the plot revolves around her being the real danger.

A vague conclusion makes the movie even more disappointing. If the story had focused on Ramona conquering her monster/suicidal thoughts, it might have been overly simplistic or predictable, but at least it would have shown a clear intention. Instead, The Woman in the Yard refuses to fully commit, avoiding showing Ramona committing suicide and then offering an ending that’s heavily suggestive of being unrealistic.

As a movie reviewer, I found myself drawn into the surreal world of “Ramona and the Looking Glass.” After sending my children away and teaming up with the mysterious woman, Ramona discovers Annie’s stuffed toy, which appears to be the catalyst that prevents her from taking the fateful step. Upon their return, the dilapidated farmhouse undergoes a miraculous transformation, now boasting a new name – something David had always desired.

Throughout the film, including Ramona’s literal journey through the looking glass where all text is reversed, there’s an unsettling dreamlike quality that pervades every scene. The movie concludes with one of Ramona’s paintings, a sign that her creative spark has been reignited. However, as the camera slowly zooms in on her signature, “Ramona” appears backward. Is this a symbol of Ramona embracing and accepting the darker aspects of her psyche, or a grim revelation of a deed she’s committed? In light of the seemingly idyllic final scene, it feels more like the latter. Given the association between the mirror world and the Woman – it’s where Ramona steps into her shoes – it seems plausible that Ramona might become trapped there after allowing the Woman to fulfill her purpose.

Just as it’s common for trauma in horror movies to present a negative portrayal of mental illness, it’s not surprising to find this trope in many films, such as “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”, “Psycho”, or any work by Ari Aster. This association between mental illness and danger or homicidal behavior is so prevalent that it has become cliché, and “The Woman in the Yard” does little to challenge this pattern. Even though some viewers might not find these films offensive, the repetition of this trope has become tiresome. Previous works like “The Babadook”, which explored mental illness more thoughtfully, have already presented a more compelling portrayal. Unfortunately, “The Woman in the Yard” also recalls another disappointing film, “Never Let Go”, where a Black mother who appears to be protecting her children turns out to be a threat. Both “Never Let Go” and “The Woman in the Yard” fail to delve into racial dynamics, resulting in films that seem, at best, thoughtless in their portrayal of mental illness and Black women.

It’s rare that we can fully escape the grip of horror or trauma in movies, even when they don’t directly tackle these themes. However, “The Woman in the Yard” seems to have hit a new low, with its lack of effort being particularly noticeable given its sensitive subject matter. On the surface, there’s nothing inherently off-limits about horror, a genre that thrives on pushing boundaries and exploring uncomfortable topics. But when handled carelessly, these themes become mere provocation or an easy narrative crutch, like in this case. This movie could have been so much more impactful with thoughtful storytelling. The same goes for Deadwyler’s performance and our collective expectations as viewers.

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2025-03-29 00:54