Mind Body Spirit movie storyline. In this fast, freaky found-footage flick, Anya, an aspiring yoga influencer, embarks on a ritual practice left behind by her estranged grandmother. She documents the practice on her YouTube channel for the world to watch, allowing her audience intimate access to her journey. But what starts as a spiritual self-help guide quickly evolves into something much more sinister.
As Anya becomes obsessed with the mysterious power of the practice, she unwittingly unleashes an otherworldly entity that begins to take control of her life — and her videos. Now Anya must race to unlock the truth, before her descent into madness threatens to consume her mind, body and spirit. By the time she reveals the true nature of the ritual, will it be too late?
Film Review for Mind Body Spirit
Filmmakers could spend the next decade highlighting the mounting horrors of influencer culture, especially with standout dissections like Alex Henes and Matthew Merenda’s Mind Body Spirit. The filmmaking duo organically recreates a hopeful celebrity vlogger’s downward spiral with the utmost Screenlife dedication. Henes and Merenda make tremendous use of a single-location California estate that never feels overused, while cinematography stays cleanly static when recreating YouTube-ready shooting styles. Where other Screenlife titles get bogged down in the technical nitty-gritty, Mind Body Spirit centers on an effortlessly zen production that becomes a haunting supernatural confrontation no positive mental attitude can exorcise.
Sarah J. Bartholomew delivers an obsessively grounded and engagingly imperfect-slash-quirky performance as an aspiring yoga influencer named Anya. We watch a playlist of videos recorded for her not-yet-famous “Mind Body Spirit” channel, complete with themed ad breaks. Everything takes place in Anya’s newly inherited house, a spacious rustic residence left by her estranged grandmother Verasha (Kristi Noory). It’s not long before Anya discovers a secret door, Verasha’s hidden “pantry,” and a diary of sorts left in Anya’s name that details a traditional 30-day Slavic ritual called “The Joining” — which becomes the focus of her content.
Anya isn’t the typical fitness influencer model stuffed into Lululemon training gear like her famous friend and colleague Kenzi (Madi Bready), so she turns to her Russian heritage for guidance. Bartholomew is so in touch with Anya’s sheepish attempts at faking her way through upbeat yoga recordings, letting glimpses of humbleness and innocence peak from behind Anya’s unhealthy desire to secure some semblance of community.
Verasha’s age-worn journal filled with foreign symbols and suspicious meditation poses raises obvious questions to onlookers. Still, to Anya — a lonely, directionless woman blinded by the healing powers of viral fame — it’s a golden ticket. Bartholomew’s performance helps us believe Anya’s apparent disregard for red flags and keeps us eagerly in suspense as she blazes forward with “The Joining,” fully trusting her ancestors.
Delicate haunted elements of Mind Body Spirit creep into frame early and often instigate paranoia, as Verasha’s presence is made known the instant Anya enters her grandmother’s forbidden rooms. Camera movements recall Paranormal Activity 3 and that oscillating rig gag, going a step above like a wicked take on the That ’70s Show basement rotation. We get the insidious sensation that Anya is never alone, as an unseen force lifts the camera during eyes-closed breathing exercises or spins the perspective to reveal eerie figures hidden in parts of the house (or reflections).
Henes and Merenda achieve a continual level of tension as the camera is attracted to Verasha’s private quarters, where her bread-rolled candle holders and makeshift altar exist, like a magnet to the house’s prevailing evils. Anya plays right into the malevolent force’s hands, and Bartholomew excels when selling nasty contorted yoga positions or the ongoing dread that envelopes her passion project.
Mind Body Spirit cuts to the volatile and manipulative core of influencers who value branding above authenticity, packaged with an unsettling array of ghostly thrills that thrive in straightforward executions. “Competent” is often used with negative connotations, but not here.
Mind Body Spirit is an exceedingly competent Screenlife presentation that does what it does notably well. Blake Horn’s cinematography captures omnipresent horrors, whether exposing dark attic recesses or brightly lit dens; performances are unwavering as shoots amplify old-world fears; the directing team displays stalwart confidence that feels nowhere near a debut level. Henes and Merenda execute with potent proficiency, which deserves celebration.
As the Screenlife sector of horror cinema continues to evolve alongside contemporary media advancements, clever examples like Mind Body Spirit are laying a sturdy foundation. A film that’s always mindful of theming, pays attention to technical details, and embraces necessary unrest to keep viewers excitedly anticipating the next in-your-face scare.
Henes and Merenda showcase an eye for Screenlife methodologies, which carries throughout Bartholomew’s excellently ranging performance in Anya’s fictional collection of doomed inspirational videos. Mind Body Spirit is a knockout horror session for the livestream era, which has me desperately waiting to see what its creators and stars do next.
Mind Body Spirit (2024)
Directed by: Alex Henes, Matthew Merenda
Starring: Sarah J. Bartholomew, Madi Bready, KJ Flahive, Anna Knigge, Kristi Noory
Screenplay by: Alex Henes, Matthew Merenda
Production Design by: Preethi Sehrawat
Cinematography by: Blake Horn
Film Editing by: Matthew Merenda
Costume Design by: Jaclyn Britz
Art Direction by: Shannon Quinn Kelly
Makeup Department: Aldrich Chica
Music by: Sean Thatcher Hubrich
MPAA Rating: None.
Distributed by: Neon, Shudder
Release Date: May 7, 2024
