“There must be ghosts all over the world. They must be as countless as the grains of the sands, it seems to me. And we are so miserably afraid of the light, all of us”

These words appear in Henrik Ibsen’s 1881 play Ghosts, and while this play doesn’t have anything directly related to the film that is the subject of this review, I found these words quite relevant for the themes that I’m going to be speaking about. Personal Shopper by Olivier Assayas is a film that looks, both literally and metaphorically, at the concept of ghosts and how they can haunt us in various forms. It is a complex and beautifully-made supernatural drama (perhaps even a horror), with genuinely terrifying scares and a terrific sense of profound poignance pulsating through it. It is one of the more complex films to look at the concept of grieving, and Assayas does some of his best work here, working alongside the beguiling Kristen Stewart to create a film that is nuanced and intricate, and something I need to ponder before coming to any definitive conclusion as to what it actually says. The quote by Ibsen is not merely a disposable way to begin this review, but rather something that I feel summarizes much of what Assayas was trying to convey with Personal Shopper. I found Personal Shopper to be extraordinary, and while it may not be a particularly easy film to watch, it certainly is profoundly moving, but perhaps in a way that is not entirely very comfortable – but the intention of Personal Shopper was not to be a pleasant experience, but a deeply intricate portrait of a specific character who is dealing with death, both literally and figuratively.

Maureen (Kristen Stewart) is a young American woman working in Paris. She moved to the iconic city to pursue her dreams, but finds herself frustrated, having to work for the persnickety, entitled and selfish Kyra (Nora Waldstätten), who has allowed fame to overtake her career, with Maureen only existing to run the errands that Kyra herself cannot bring herself to do, such as choosing out her wardrobe and buying her clothing to wear to the prestigious, high-profile events that Maureen wishes she would be able to attend, to feel the blissful glamour that comes with such an atmosphere, even if only for a fleeting moment. She is also mourning the death of her brother Lewis, who had died recently in that very city, which is the reason she is bound to stay there, patiently waiting for some message from her departed brother that he is at peace, hoping that he will communicate with her through the spiritual dimension. Very soon, Maureen finds herself being the target of an anonymous entity who constantly sends her text messages, and what starts as fearful paranoia on the part of Maureen eventually blossoms into morbid curiosity, as she lets this mysterious person on the other side of the messages to have unfettered access into her life, showing it her biggest insecurities, secrets, and anxieties, believing the possibility that this enigmatic person is actually her brother communicating with her through unconventional means. Maureen questions her own reality as the relationship with this person only grows more complex and twisted, eventually resulting in a terrifying turn of events that may change Maureen’s life completely, prompting her to reconsider what she believes to be true, while still holding out for her brother to send her some sign that he is at peace, allowing her to finally rest easy in the knowledge that her brother is watching over her – but it becomes evident that her forays into the realm of the supernatural are not without consequences, especially through the sudden arrival of the aforementioned presence who is nothing short of malicious.

Kristen Stewart is one of the finest actresses of her generation, and I am not reluctant at all to make such an assertion. I have not seen a performer radically change in style and quality of performance quite like her, and alongside her Twilight co-star Robert Pattinson, Stewart’s career only grows in leaps and bounds, with each project she has done since being liberated from the shackles of mediocre teen horror being more audacious and daring than the last. She did some of the best work of her career with Olivier Assayas in Clouds of Sils Maria, and she seemed to find a common collaborative serendipity with the French auteur, as he once again cast her in another one of his films, and this time put her in the major role. Personal Shopper is built entirely around Stewart, and every other performance in inconsequential on their own, and all support Stewart, who is astonishing in this film. Playing the frightened but willful Maureen, Stewart is a revelation, playing with the character enough to evoke genuine emotion, showing the concealed anxieties and secretive beliefs held by Maureen. Stewart’s performance is astounding in its simplicity, but not void of any nuance, with every moment she is on screen feeling like a refreshing atonement for her less-than-ideal work in the inferior horror films that first gave her worldwide exposure. Stewart moves beyond what we have seen her do before, with her Maureen being a complex character who is executed with exceptional poise and distinctive gracefulness, while still being vulnerable and disquieted. Needless to say, I find Stewart to be an incredible actress, with her subtlety being in stark contrast to some questionably bombastic, over-enthusiastic choices by her contemporaries, and Personal Shopper is yet another in her streak of impressive and diverse films that prove her unquestionable talents.

Maureen is a character that flirts with the possibility of communicating with other dimensions, but when the possibility actually tangibly arises, she is apprehensive, knowing the scope of the damage that can be done if someone conjures up forces not meant for this world. In a way, Personal Shopper subverts traditional horror stereotypes and looks at consequence, an idea that is not often explored in horror films, whereby characters act in ways that are indecent or quite frankly, idiotic, and expect to get away with it, and often fall victim to whichever malicious force is out to cull these irresponsible individuals. Personal Shopper touches on something much deeper, looking at the ramifications of one’s actions, and showing that sometimes, while you may not necessarily endure torture or outright terror, toggling the line between reality and other realms that are not meant to be crossed can result in something far more sinister, and as Maureen realizes very soon, her curiosity may bring her comfort, but it may also set off a chain of unbridled terror, the likes of which she may not recover from. Personal Shopper is not necessarily a horror film – but it is outright terrifying at moments, but in a very subversive way, being akin to classic horrors such as The Shining and Rosemary’s Baby in using suspense and implication to evoke a tense atmosphere, rather than explicitly showing the horror. It is admirable, and rather than descending into complete anarchy, it chooses to keep the tone suspenseful and relentlessly tense.

In many ways, Personal Shopper is one of the more bold films of its kind, using its genre-bending spirit to tell a bilateral story, smartly using metaphor to convey two very different messages. This correlates with what I previously mentioned in using the Ibsen quote – Personal Shopper is about ghosts, both literally and metaphorically, and how one is haunted by them in different ways. In terms of the former, there are tangible ghosts present in this film – Maureen is a medium, and possesses the ability to communicate with those in otherworldly dimensions, which she thinks may bring her comfort, but eventually is the cause of her crippling fear and anxiety when confronted with the growing reality of these entities entering into her life through her relentless permission of them to make themselves palpable so that she may find answers. In no uncertain terms, there is a supernatural overture present in this film, and Assayas uses the concept of the otherworldy well, utilizing it with considerable restraint, with it being found in sporadic moments, which evoke awed anxiety rather than thrilling terror. The paranormal encounters in this film do not occur often, but when they do, their rarity serves to make them even more effective, and they extend far beyond being cheap scares, but profoundly meaningful interactions between the dimensions, with Maureen quite literally being haunted by these spirits. Personal Shopper is extraordinarily chilling, and the mystical undertone that flows beneath this film was unsettlingly beautiful, making Personal Shopper one of the more complex horror films of recent years.

The second kind of ghosts that Personal Shopper looks at is the metaphorical kind, with Maureen being haunted by the specter of the past. This is a concept not entirely absent from literature, and I recently spoke about it in my review for the similarly-themed Hereditary, which also blended literal and metaphorical hauntings, albeit in a far more terrifying manner. Maureen is constantly hounded by her own memories, especially those of her deceased brother, and it is the reason she cannot leave Paris to achieve her dreams – folklore surrounding ghosts suggests that they cannot ever leave the location of their death, and it is well-established throughout Personal Shopper that Lewis died in Paris, where Maureen constantly tries to conjure the spirit of her brother. This detail is never overtly mentioned but it has been a constant theme in literature focused on ghosts, and I found quite an interesting subtext in this regard. Maureen and her departed brother were twins, and both were captivated by the idea of inter-dimensional communication, as well as both having the same heart defect that eventually killed Lewis, and which Maureen is terrified will send her to the same early grave as her brother. Much like a ghost, Maureen is bound to the city, searching aimlessly for some sign that her brother, with whom she had a very close connection, is present. Personal Shopper is a film about grief, and through searching for her brother’s spirit, Maureen is working through her own trauma, coming to terms with his death and mourning in the way she feels will bring her what she desires most – closure. The Ibsen quote that appeared at the outset of this review is relevant, because it speaks to the concept of ghosts, not necessarily tangible, supernatural spirits, but the ghosts of memory, the past that haunts us, and that which we are too terrified to address directly. Personal Shopper is a profoundly moving film about grief, an honest portrayal of the uncertainty and unpredictability of the mourning process, and an example of how everyone works through trauma in their own individual way. It was quite innovative of Assayas to look at this concept through the lens of a supernatural horror, and subsequent films seem to have similar concepts, with films such as The Sea of Trees,  A Ghost Story and Hereditary focusing on grief through paranormal means. Personal Shopper, however, may be the most profound and meaningful, and its simplicity works heavily in its favor.

Personal Shopper is a film that needs to be experienced to be understood. It looks at a complex panoply of themes and concepts that cannot be adequately described in words, but rather need to be meditated upon. On the surface, Personal Shopper is a stunning film – it has some of Assayas’ most breathtaking visual filmmaking, with each frame being a work of art in its own way. It features an astonishing central performance from Kristen Stewart, who possibly gives her best performance to date here as the complex Maureen, who is grappling with her grief in a way that may not be relatable, but it is certainly very resonant. The film itself is beautifully-constructed in terms with narrative, with a tense story that evokes terror and provokes thought, looking at the concept of being haunted, either by paranormal entities or by the uncomfortable past, and how one deals with these instances, either recoiling in fear or facing them and moving forward. Personal Shopper is a terrific film, one that is terrifying but also extremely meaningful, an intricate and enigmatic supernatural drama that makes some profound and bold statements, and never relents in telling a story that is as unsettlingly beautiful in execution as it is endlessly terrifying in implication.