Movie Review ~ Mind Body Spirit

While the found footage horror film may have worn out its welcome thanks to a saturation of the market as studios rushed to cash in on these cheaply made films, in recent years, there has been a rise in a similar genre that puts a modern twist on that once-original style.  A subgenre of scares, the screen life category has carved out a niche for itself, with films like Host, Spree, and Unfriended tapping into the voyeuristic thrill of peeping into someone else’s life through the lens of their online cameras and phone screens.  I’ve enjoyed these outings (which are pretty tricky to make when you consider all the fake content that needs to be created), and if I’m seeing them in the theater, I prefer to be as close as possible, so my view is taken up entirely by the screen.

As our evolving technology continually reshapes the viewing habits of audiences wanting something unique, the direct-to-streaming film Mind Body Spirit attempts to combine the found footage and screen life narrative.  Unfortunately, instead of continuing to disrupt the storytelling norms of cinema, it fails to capitalize on the massive potential of the format.  Despite a compelling premise, it falters under the weight of aspiring to be bigger than its resources, delivering an overlong and underwhelming experience that leaves viewers yearning for more substance and less monotonous exposition.

After years of struggling with self-worth and finding her chosen path, Anya (Sarah J. Bartholomew, Accidental Texan) has finally discovered her calling: to become a yoga influencer.  Though lacking the stalwart confidence that makes an online personality so engaging, Anya is using the home she inherited from her estranged grandmother as a place to reset and start her life anew.  When the film begins, she is preparing her first lesson…and it isn’t going well.  The camera isn’t cooperating; she doesn’t seem to have a flow to her movements, and eventually, she clumsily knocks over some books on a shelf that has been masking a secret door. 

Through the door, Anya stumbles upon a mysterious ritual practice left by her deceased relative, Granny Verasha (Kristi Noory), and instead of being frightened by it, she happily cracks open the book and tries her hand at a bit of occult magic because # whynot?  Lacking the support of her distant mother, Lenka (Anna Knigge), and maintaining a tense relationship with frenemy/fellow yogi Kenzi (Madi Bready), Anya falls deeper under the eerie spell cast by the book.  Eventually, the quest for enlightenment turns deadly as her journey into the murky waters of mystical magic brings murder and mayhem to anyone in her orbit.  

Tongue-in-cheek interludes masquerading as YouTube advertisements for various products inject much-needed levity into the otherwise somber proceedings, offering a delightful reprieve from the film’s overwrought seriousness.  While the film has a glimmer of creativity through these cleverly crafted commercials, which offer a meta-commentary on the commercialization of wellness culture, they don’t make sense in the context of the presented footage.  If this is found footage, why are there pauses for ads?  These self-aware moments starkly contrast the surrounding narrative’s lack of authenticity.     

While the script wildly grasps at the essence of mindfulness, it fails to convince us of Anya’s genuine commitment to her spiritual path.  Bartholomew’s character lacks the conviction and simple dedication one would expect from an aspiring yoga producer.  Her lessons don’t have any grace or polish to them, and while that may be the point, it creates a feeling of one big shoulder shrug instead of going into warrior pose.  The dialogue, steeped in wellness jargon, often rings hollow, undermining Anya’s credibility. Even as the film doles out a handful of eerie moments (Anya’s experiment with a string is…ew!), these are fleeting distractions in an otherwise predictable, pedestrian progression.  

While Mind Body Spirit has moments of atmospheric storytelling and several clever distractions, it becomes too talky and lacks the propulsive scares that make up the final act of these films.  Right about the time when you want the characters to be up and about, jostling the camera and revealing terrifying images, they are sitting down and having long expository discussions.  Making their feature-length debut, Alex Henes & Matthew Merenda can’t translate the same success they found making short films to this forgettable entry in an intriguing subgenre.  Instead of offering a fresh take on the format, a lack of robust execution leaves the film uncentered and indistinct.