Movies: Birth/Rebirth (2023)

Another newer film that I’d been hearing some buzz about that was also available on Shudder (like the previously discussed Moon Garden) is the feature-length directorial debut of Laura Moss, titled Birth/Rebirth. The movie premiered at Sundance in early 2023 and got a limited theatrical release in the late summer of the same year.

Clearly influenced by Frankenstein (like the previously discussed Poor Things), Birth/Rebirth is nonetheless its own animal, a body-horror-slash-medical-drama that never goes in the expected directions and boasts two excellent lead performances to boot. It’s been compared to a David Cronenberg film, which is a good call, but also to Re-Animator, although I’ll note that Birth/Rebirth is not a horror comedy (despite a thread of dark humor). It’s an outstanding psychological horror as well, examining the lengths that a mother will go to for her child, and the moral boundaries one is willing to cross to achieve one’s goals.

Our two main protagonists seem like polar opposites. Dr. Rose Casper (Marin Ireland) is a cold, standoffish pathologist: highly antisocial, brusque, and logical to a fault. Celie Morales (Judy Reyes) is a warm, gregarious obstetrics nurse, always willing to go the extra mile for her patients, as well as for her sweet five-year-old daughter Lila (A.J. Lister), whom she’s raising as a single mother after having birthed her using IVF. The two women work in the same hospital but have never met. All that, though, is about to change.

The first act of the story efficiently sets up the women’s very different lives and the very different ways others react to them. Celie is beloved by all, it seems, and dotes on her little girl. Rose is curt, austere, and seemingly somewhat feared by her colleagues. Near the beginning of the movie, we get a hint at something weirder going on in Rose’s life: seated in a bar, she openly propositions a man, offering to give him a handjob in the bathroom. He accepts, nervously, and doesn’t seem too bothered by her businesslike execution. She collects his semen in a jar and bids him a crisp good day. Later on, we see her turkey-basting the semen into herself, and at first, we’re led to believe that she simply wants a child and this is the most fuss-free way to accomplish that. As the story goes on, though, we discover what her intentions are, and they’re much more uncomfortable than simple motherhood.

One morning, Celie’s daughter Lila claims she isn’t feeling well and wants to stay home from school. Celie has heard that song and dance before and is stressed out because she’s late for work, but Lila won’t budge from her stance. Grudgingly, Celie drops the girl off at her neighbor Pauline’s apartment, and because Lila is having a bit of a tantrum, Celie deliberately withholds a goodbye hug and kiss, a decision that will end up haunting her by day’s end.

Celie’s shift is hectic, and in the afternoon, she gets a call from Pauline, but accidentally drops her phone in the toilet, which makes it go on the fritz. Celie seems almost relieved that the phone went out, though, later saying it was like a little vacation from the constant messages and obligations.

However, when Celie gets back to her building, Pauline and Lila are gone, and there’s only a hastily scribbled note left behind about Lila being really sick. Celie rushes back to the hospital, but tragically, it’s too late: her little girl has already died of bacterial meningitis.

Meanwhile, Rose receives Lila’s body in the morgue and decides the child will be perfect for her latest experiment. She fudges some paperwork, stuffs the body into a suitcase, and hightails it to the parking garage.

But because Rose was so rude and strange to Celie when she came down asking to see her daughter’s remains, Rose is the first person Celie suspects when she’s informed that Lila’s body went missing. It so happened that Celie had also seen Rose putting the obviously very heavy suitcase in the back of her car, and thus put two and two together.

Celie then follows Rose back to her place and discovers to her combined horror and wonder that Rose has brought Lila back from the dead. Outraged at first, Celie quickly becomes intrigued by Rose’s work, heartened by the prospect of having her daughter back again.

Celie moves in with Rose and the two women start to work together on keeping Lila alive and monitoring the experiment. Rose explains that she had previously brought a pig named Muriel back to life, and the adorable Muriel seems to be doing well despite having died a few weeks back, snuffling around the apartment like nothing ever happened.

There’s a catch, though: the serum Rose invented for the maintenance of the reanimated subjects needs fetal tissue that’s compatible with the subject. Rose, it turns out, has been impregnating herself for just this reason, and she tells Celie that it’s a one-in-a-million coincidence that the tissue she produced worked for Lila. But once the serum runs out and something happens where Rose can’t make more, the women have to resort to decidedly more unethical means to keep Lila from dying (again).

This was a remarkably good psychological horror, and went to some pretty dark places. It’s not a bloodbath, but if you’re squicked out by autopsy stuff or pregnancy-related gore, you might want to give this one a pass. As I mentioned, the story didn’t really play out the way I expected it to, which was a nice surprise, and I was really on board with how twisted it became as the women edged deeper and deeper into monstrousness, all engendered by the love of Lila and the unwillingness to let her go, though for very different reasons.

If you’re interested in seeing a somewhat disturbing take on the Frankenstein story but told from a female perspective, then this might be just what the pediatrician ordered, as it tackles all kinds of interesting facets of motherhood as well as mad science. As of April of 2024, it’s streaming on Shudder (at least in the US), and it’s well worth a watch if you like medical-themed body horror with a character-driven narrative.

Until next time, keep it creepy, my friends.