It’s difficult to walk away from Oculus. Not in the sense that it’s difficult to walk out of the theater — that’s outright impossible — but in the sense that it is, literally, difficult to walk away from the arena after the credits roll. You don’t rightly know which way is up.
The movie takes place in two simultaneous timelines. In one, Alan and Marie Russell (Rory Cochrane and Katee Sackhoff) and their children, Kaylie and Tim (Annalise Basso and Garrett Ryan) have moved into a new house and brought new furniture with them, including an antique mirror, the kind of thing that is so obviously and voraciously possessed it could only exist in a nightmare like this movie. After shenanigans, Tim is institutionalized after killing his father, who had killed his mother.
Eleven years later, Tim (Brenton Thwaites) is discharged. Kaylie (Karen Gillan), now an auction house logistics employee, has brought the mirror back to their old home to, against Tim’s better judgment and every shred of rational thought, force the mirror to perform its shenanigans on camera to clear her family’s name before she destroys it.

Things get freaky in Oculus. Really, extremely, disturbingly sleep-with-the-lights-on-for-a-couple-weeks freaky.
Oculus only makes any traditional form of sense for about 20 minutes, then the mirror takes sway and there’s nothing for the audience to hold on to. Time, reality, flashes of powerful love and long stretches of abject terror fold into and on top of one another. In the film’s waning stages, it gets to the point that there’s genuinely no way to know if events are unfolding in the present or the past.




