‘Creep Box’ (2023)

‘Creep Box’ follows Dr. Franklin Caul (Geoffrey Cantor) a scientist on the verge of developing new technology that can help the living ‘communicate’ with the dead. Simultaneously grieving the death of his wife the year prior, Caul devotes all of his time and effort into advancing his tech.

Setting the tone from the get-go, ‘Creep Box’ starts with Caul using his technology to allow a grieving husband say goodbye to his wife. A simple enough looking black box delivers a cacophony of multiple streams of voices of the deceased. It is then gauged to form a single coherent voice. Stressing multiple times that the voice that they are hearing is not a specter or an astral version of the deceased, Caul emphasizes the importance of remembering that the voice is a simulation, no the person.

The film delivers a novel concept. Even when the ‘scientific’ process is explained, whereby the dead person’s ‘brain matter’ is used to collect a snap-shot of their personality, the film ventures beyond trying to ground it in tangible and quantifiable explanations. Rather, it explores the psychological and philosophical ramifications of death on those left behind.

Communicating with the dead is a story-line well explored. The novelty of ‘Creep Box’ lies with its adamant stance on insisting that the box reproducing the dead people’s voices is only a simulation. Things take a turn when Caul decides to conduct research after hours in the privacy of his own home.

Carrying out his research in secret, Caul copies the cassette of a deceased man Adam (Adam David Thompson) who had taken his own life. Using the data collected from Adam, Caul tries to probe deeper and explore why apparently people who have committed suicide have a more stable and reliable ‘voice’ emanating from the ‘creep box’, not deteriorating and breaking down quickly, unlike the people whose lives had been cut short unexpectedly.

Caul visits with Adam’s wife Sylvie (Katie Kuang) to gather more information about Adam. Trying to uncover and understand what ‘Adam’ now believes he is, after being informed that he is a captured ‘simulation’ of corporeal Adam, the film veers heavily towards contemplating the nature of our reality. The two discuss the nature of being and existence, leaving room for interpretation rather than producing a clear cut answer to existential quandaries.

With the ‘Adam’ emanating from the box and responding as he would have if he were alive, the story raises worth-while considerations of what makes us human, and how far that definition can be stretched. Increasingly using ‘Adam’ to ask more personal questions about his suicide, Caul blurs the line between his private and professional life, shattering his image as a straitlaced and inflexible scientist.

Cantor anchors the film as Caul spends his days working and nights drinking himself to sleep. The strained relationship he has with his daughter comes to light as she visits with him on the anniversary of his wife’s death. It is implied that Caul’s wife had taken her own life, with the film culminating in Caul trying to reach some form of closure as he tries to make sense of why his wife did it and if there is in fact anything he could have done to prevent it.

At the core of ‘Creep Box’, Caul goes against the goals of the company he works for. With HTDA wanting to pursue the D.O.J. and Caul leaning into further research, writer and director of the film Patrick Biesemans signals the division at the center of the story. Caul is looking for answers, and he wants to understand why his wife took her own life. Going against the interests of his company, Caul struggles to make sense of his grief.

The culmination of the film may feel a little anticlimactic, as Caul talks with a psychologist and discusses the nature of grief. Pointing heavily to the fact that acknowledging grief is not the same as dealing with it, we also find out that Caul has history of mental health issues in his family, flagging that he may very well be an unreliable narrator.

Well acted by Cantor, ‘Creep Box’ studies the nature of grief through the lens of science fiction. Somewhat cold and distant, Cantor’s Caul approaches his work with curiosity, reason and logic. What he cannot divorce himself from is his humanity however. Unable to quiet Caul’s need for closure, ‘Creep Box’ delves deep into the psychology of loss, and illustrates the weight of unresolved anguish.

Score: 3/4