Lose of Serenity: The Story of HEARTH

The world can be a horrifying place, full of darkness and deviance. Our sanctuary resides in our homes, where we feel safe within the walls of our self-made fortress. The possibility of an external threat can cause anxiety but can be prevented. What we haven’t imagined is if the threat is welcomed into our home with open arms.

In Hearth, the new short thriller by Sophie B. Jacques, which she also wrote, examines this concept with unease. In a short yet tense 11 minutes, Jacques’ film explores what an unexpected threat may look like and how we can be oblivious to it. 

Emile (Marilyn Castonguay) comes home after a weekend away to check on her abode, which has been rented out to couple Alice (Marianne Farley) and her husband Tom (Joel Marin). As Emile is checking over her seemingly immaculate home, the audience hears a Thank You letter from Tom, raving about their experience. However, what lurks behind the crisp cleaned corners is a veiled truth to that couple’s weekend getaway.

As times have evolved, so has our recreation, and the experience of staying at a home is overtaking hotel stay. It’s something most of us have done in recent years, which is why this film’s topic hits a nerve. Whether we are the ones staying or hosting, we never truly know who, or what will be coming through the door once we leave. Hearth was an idea Jacques had after experiencing a similar situation to the film, and when she read the review left by her guest, a small spark of an idea ignited.

“I remember laughing, imagining how those compliments might have a dual meaning, which is pretty creepy. The worst things could have been taking place here, in my own house, and I might never know,” Jacques says. “In the writing process, I thought it’d be interesting to build the story around this uncertainty, using the deep narrative voice and the dual temporality.”

The intensity of Hearth goes beyond a universal experience, but in the paired timeline used as a structural device for the story. While Emile is walking through the house in the present, the past and the activities of Tom and Alice play out behind her. As one space has been cleared, we are witness to the truth of its former sinister usage. Visually, this formation of the story was powerful, but it was less than complicated to construct. In wanting to utilize the physical world of both the storylines, Jacques wanted to conceive visuals with little to no SFX. The production crew wanted to make sure scenes for each story were coordinated correctly, something that was thrilling for Jacques as the director. In doing so, she made sure the impact of the duality was palpable. 

“For example in the bedroom scene, right after we see Emilie, the camera turns and the actors playing the couple had to rush on the bed and appear to be laying there calmly in a setting with the curtains suddenly closed, just before the camera ends turning while facing the mirror aimed at the couple,” Jacques explains. “When I saw the actors rushing on the bed, the set decorator diving on the ground to get the curtains closed in the right time and the camera crew working hard to get a smooth camera movement at the perfect timing to switch temporality through the mirror… It was beautiful to witness such amazing teamwork.”

While the use of the congruent timelines was what created the tension in the film, the heart of the thriller lies in the concept. Home is where the heart is, a fortress that protects one from the evils of the real world. Hearth uses unimaginable violation as a jumping off point but spins it to include the homeowner’s oblivion to the truth. As Jacques goes on to explain, it goes beyond the home and into the world around us.

“Having people stay at my house has opened up my reflection about physical spaces that we share. In any specific place, time is the only thing that separates us from what has already happened there,” Jacque says. “Most of the time, you don’t have any clue of what could have been taking place in your home when you weren’t there. But sometimes, you get this weird feeling that you can’t explain in any meaningful way.”

As if right on cue, that’s where anxiety sneaks up into the fold. The lingering unease alerts the senses that something is not right, even if the viewer doesn’t see it. Hearth showcases both realms, the safety of home and the horror of perversion. Your distress is validated because you are aware of what actually happened while Emile was away. During the fierce short the jump scare conceals itself, yet you are prepared for the final reveal and restrain the fright. However, the ending is not what you expected. 

“What helped me a lot to stay away from that kind of ending was my main idea. The most terrifying part in that story to me is the fact that Emilie will never know what her guests did in her house,” Jacques says. “I wanted to evoke what took place in her bathtub, while she was warmly recommending Alice and Tom to other Airbnb landlords. That is the real horror story to me.”

One may think that ending the film unexpectedly might lead to a let down for the audience, which is anything but true. Hearth works because it’s built on real emotions playing out in real time. You connect with the characters through action, not over explained situations or exposition dialogue. An elongated story would be copious, and thankfully Jacques follows the “less is more” idea of storytelling.

A quality director knows that story is above all else, which is exactly who Jacques is as director-writer. She does credit some inspirations for her foray into this genre of film such as, “Fargo (Coen) for the dark humor, Funny Games (Haneke) for the unbearable discomfort, Tin & Tina (Stein) for the morbid complicity, and Blue Velvet (Lynch) for the mysterious atmosphere.” Her inspirations may be varied and robust, but her voice is undoubtedly her own. Hearth is just the beginning, and Sophie B Jacques is about to capture our hearts with dreadfully beautiful storytelling.

Written by Lisa M Mejia
Images provided by JP Bernier