The Woman in the Yard

This review contains spoilers.

The Woman in the Yard is not an easy watch but a powerful reminder that horror can be used to confront the darkest corners of our psyche. This film tackles a subject that still remains taboo in our society: suicide, not as a gimmick or twist, but as a lived emotional reality. The film approaches it with a grim and unrelenting perspective that surprised me, especially coming from a mainstream Blumhouse release. It is easy to see why audiences and critics were not prepared for this. Many people expect horror to end with a sense of closure or hope. That is not what this film offers.

At the center of it all is Danielle Deadwyler’s harrowing performance as Ramona, a woman who is grieving the death of her husband. But before this veers into familiar trauma-horror territory, it becomes clear that this is something different. Ramona’s suffering did not begin with her husband’s death. Through a brief flashback, we see that her unhappiness existed long before. She was unhappy in the city. She was unhappy on the farm. She struggles with motherhood. She is an artist who has lost her ability to create, and her sense of self has been unraveling for some time. The depression that consumes her is not the result of a single tragedy, but something that has always been with her.

So who is the woman in the yard? She is not just a ghost or a supernatural presence. She is the embodiment of Ramona’s mental illness, the physical manifestation of her suicidal ideation. Perhaps an angel of death or a demon of suicide. She is a quiet force, persistent and patient, always creeping closer, who has come to grant Ramona her final wish. When she says, “today’s the day,” it is a phrase that cuts deep. Anyone who has experienced suicidal ideation knows how tragic and terrifying those words really are. We understand what is coming next.

The film is also visually striking. Everything takes place within a single day, from sunrise to sunset, giving the story a contained and almost ritualistic feeling. The visual detail of the woman in the yard manipulating objects with her shadow is eerie and frightening. Some viewers may complain that the final act becomes incoherent, but this is purposeful. We are experiencing the same disorientation that Romana faces and more importantly sets up the final shot of the film. At one point, Ramona enters a mirror world that appears calm and pleasant, but letters and numbers are reversed and clearly artificial. It is a place of denial. Viewers get a sort of happy ending should they choose it. But in the film’s final shot, when we see Ramona’s name painted backward, we understand that this world is also not real. She has crossed over. The Woman in the Yard has fulfilled her role, and Ramona has completed what she set out to do.

This is a devastating film with a clear and unapologetic perspective. It is uncomfortable and deeply sad. But it is also honest. Ramona is not saved. She does not change her mind. The film does not flinch from this reality. And while we must always try to help those who are struggling with suicidal thoughts, we also have to face the truth that sometimes help does not arrive. To tell that story on screen is risky, but also deeply powerful, true, and sobering.