The Whisper

The Whisper has a most simple premise, told with a high level of cinematic competence. It’s a tried and tested formula: a woman – in this case Sophie (Ivisita Ivanova) – walks through the woods alone and begins to realise that some dark, unseen force has a hold over the forest. She encounters objects which suggest that she should not go any further, but she does. We as the audience follow, held by the tension of the scenario and intrigued by the dramatic nature of the locations depicted. Delving into the occult, hauntings and possession, this is obviously a film we’ve seen before. However, that doesn’t mean that this horror-short by director Teddy Nikolova isn’t doing anything new; in fact, there are plenty of apt aesthetic techniques being implemented to support this classic narrative in fun and exciting ways.

Plot-wise, there’s not much to discuss. Penned by Nikolova and their co-writer Miroslav Petkov, the narrative is serviceable, and most definitely proves successful at constructing an effective setup and striking conclusion. Yet outside of that, we’re presented more with atmosphere than themes and a fully-fledged story. And that’s fine. It quickly becomes apparent that the filmmakers are far more interested in both how they’re telling their story, and how adept they are at replicating the genre tropes and conventions. Thus, we can view this work as a practice piece of sorts; an arena in which these budding artists can flex their creative muscles. It’s a picture which contributes sincerely and positively to the legacy of horror cinema. Audiences therefore will enjoy a movie made by film-fans who are passionate about the genre they’re drawing from to create something personal.

Visually, there’s something reminiscent of John Carpenter’s style in The Whisper. A floaty, voyeuristic quality imbues the camerawork with a cold sense of emotional removal. But through this continuous following and tracking also comes the really unnerving aspect of the cinematography. It's as if the character drags the camera with them through the dangerous environment, and whatever is a threat to this subject will also end up being a threat to us, the audience. It’s a dialogue-free exercise in visual storytelling, so while we can’t necessarily empathise with Sophie – beyond the surface-level anyway – we can still very much place ourselves in this physically vulnerable space.

Towards the story’s end, however, shots become shrouded in darkness – but this lacks the tangible quality of the bright, frightening woodland in previous minutes. More attention could have been paid to lighting the dark space with a more dynamic hand; a look of clarity without losing the sensation that we are truly in the dark. This is a hugely challenging ask, particularly for those without the resources to make the image pop. But in that case, maybe a different kind of conclusory set-piece could have been settled upon. Nevertheless, what this short film illuminates is a group of filmmakers’ comprehension of filmic structure as well as the standard tone of a horror movie. An impactful work of mood and dread indeed.