'I LIVE HERE NOW': A Demented Dollhouse Dreamscape {Movie Trailer}

Julie Pacino spent a decade and a half harnessing an eye for visuals, and she arrives on the festival circuit with her feature debut, I Live Here Now, a film that plays on the viewer’s presumptions and misconceptions. We are living in a time of grim uncertainty, and in these times, genre movies, like horror, flourish in spite of the political and social climate because of their ability to help viewers process complex emotions. As movie viewers, we can recognize that even the films themselves are aware of the predecessors they may be compared to. This may seem patronizing or it could be a sincere exploration.

Julie Pacino spent a decade and a half harnessing an eye for visuals, and she arrives on the festival circuit with her feature debut, I Live Here Now, a film that plays on the viewer’s presumptions and misconceptions. We are living in a time of grim uncertainty, and in these times, genre movies, like horror, flourish in spite of the political and social climate because of their ability to help viewers process complex emotions. As movie viewers, we can recognize that even the films themselves are aware of the predecessors they may be compared to. This may seem patronizing or it could be a sincere exploration.

Rose (Lucy Fry) is an actress given a major career opportunity. After passing a stressful test under a hardened and reluctant casting director, Rose is given a deadline to submit an audition tape. The catch, of course, is that she must fit the body type of her character. The prospect of getting the role is shaken up when Rose finds out she’s pregnant, despite an intrusive surgery in her childhood that severely impacted those odds. The people in her life consist of her influencer situationship, Travis (Matt Rife), who’s running scared, and his controlling mother, Martha (Sheryl Lee). Without a reliable support system, Rose makes an appointment to terminate the pregnancy. She is given a pill, and much to her frustration, is told to lie low for the weekend. She books a stay at a nearby tourist trap hotel where she is haunted by several women who take a dark interest in her past traumas.

On the surface one would be quick to add I Live Here Now as another notch in a longbelt of Rosemary’s Baby derivatives. But where those films tend to lean more towards themes of the occult or body horror, Pacino puts more of a focus on the often-overlooked themes of gaslighting and loss of autonomy. Once Rose is safely checked into the hotel, the inciting incident is treated more like wallpaper on the larger story. This is fitting seeing as we’ve entered Pacino’s personal dollhouse within the hotel, with its elaborately themed rooms, and costumes that feel straight out of a Lynchian pastiche of a mid-50’s melodrama. This is another misdirection that Pacino leans into, showing her admiration for the late David Lynch and his love of deep reds and dark blues. And of course, the inclusion of Sheryl Lee, sporting a dress that appears to made from the Red Room’s curtains.

​Aside from Lee’s scene stealing dominance, Lucy Fry does carry the weight of her performance well. There’s a lot of expression delivered through her eyes as she endures the onslaught of dismissal and passive aggression from every other character. You can see the powder keg brewing within her until the turning point. Matt Rife is perfectly cast as the superficial Ken doll, whose thinly veiled charm masks an insecure boy. His is an extended cameo for sure, but his presence is felt. Madeline Brewer shines as Lillian, Rose’s dark mirror, a warped Alma to her Elisabet Vogler (yeah, this film is one big Persona homage). This film also showcases promising new talent in Sarah Rich and Lara Clear as the hotel staff. Rich particularly excels in her infantilized character that serves as its own parallel to Rose’s story.

I Live Here Now is a delightfully refreshing nightmare that wants to scream in the face of the viewer. It’s an experience that pulls back the curtain on a fairy tale mindset, with a storybook opening, and a chapter format harkening back to an old Disney movie. What was sold to a little girl as a child versus what awaits her in the real world, yet she still has the desire to return to the world she has control over. Pacino’s debut is still touring the festival circuit, but I highly recommend giving it a watch once it finds its streaming home. Make sure you bring cake, or maybe even a slice of cherry pie. It’s what Lynch would want.

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Author

Alex Ayres is an Atlanta-based filmmaker and writer with a passion for genre storytelling, especially horror. A graduate of the University of North Carolina Wilmington, he has written multiple short and feature screenplays, including 6/09, which earned Best Comedy at the Austin After Dark Film Fest. He works on film sets in various roles and continues developing new projects, including his short Soup’s On. Alex has been part of HorrOrigins since its inaugural year and remains a valued contributor to the festival’s continued growth.​