Ghost stories usually follow a pretty standard blueprint. You’ve got the creaking floorboards, the flickering lights, and that one basement door that absolutely refuses to stay locked. But when Netflix dropped Things Heard and Seen back in 2021, it didn't just play with ghosts. It played with the much scarier idea that the person sleeping right next to you might be a bigger threat than any spirit haunting the attic.
Honestly, the movie is polarizing. People either love the gothic Hudson Valley vibes or they absolutely hate how it handles the ending. Based on Elizabeth Brundage’s novel All Things Cease to Appear, the film stars Amanda Seyfried and James Norton as a couple moving from the city to a drafty old farmhouse. It’s a classic setup, but the execution is way more about toxic marriages and Swedenborgian philosophy than jump scares. If you’ve ever wondered why your skin crawled during certain scenes, it’s probably because the film leans heavily into the idea that our world and the spirit world are basically mirrors of each other.
The Real History Behind the House
The house in the film isn't just a prop. It’s a character.
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In the story, the Catherine and George Claire move into a home with a dark history of murder-suicide. While the specific "Smit" family in the movie is a fictional creation for the plot, the Hudson Valley itself is thick with this kind of lore. Brundage was actually inspired by a real-life murder that happened in 1982 in Brighton, New York. Cathleen Krauseneck was killed with an ax while she slept—her husband claimed he found her when he got home from work. That real-life case remained unsolved for decades until James Krauseneck Jr. was finally convicted in 2022.
Seeing those parallels on screen makes the movie feel less like a "spooky ghost flick" and more like a true crime tragedy. The film captures that specific, isolated coldness of Upstate New York winters. You can almost feel the draft coming through the window frames.
Why George Is Scarier Than the Ghosts
James Norton plays George Claire, and he is a piece of work. Seriously.
Most horror movies have a "final girl" fighting a monster. In Things Heard and Seen, the monster is a gaslighting husband who happens to be an art history professor. The film spends a lot of time showing how George slowly unravels. He isn't just a jerk; he's a plagiarist and a pathological liar. The way he treats Catherine—minimizing her eating disorder, lying about his credentials, and eventually isolating her—is a textbook study in domestic abuse.
The ghosts in the house are actually trying to warn her.
That’s the big twist on the genre here. Usually, spirits are the antagonists. Here, the female spirits who died at the hands of violent men in that house are trying to form a sisterhood with Catherine. They are "heard and seen" by those who are open to them, while George, who is spiritually "dead" inside, can’t perceive them until it’s too late. It’s a weird, feminist take on a haunting.
Emanuel Swedenborg and the Spiritual Vibe
You can't talk about Things Heard and Seen without mentioning Emanuel Swedenborg. He was an 18th-century scientist turned mystic who claimed he could talk to angels and spirits. His theology is all over this movie.
The title itself comes from his work De Caelo et Ejus Mirabilibus et de Inferno, ex Auditis et Visis. Translated? Heaven and its Wonders and Hell, From Things Heard and Seen.
Basically, Swedenborg argued that everything in the physical world has a spiritual counterpart. If you are a good person, you are surrounded by light and good spirits. If you are a "George," you attract darkness. The film uses George’s fascination with George Inness—a real American painter who was a devout Swedenborgian—to highlight this. Inness's paintings were meant to show the "spiritual" side of nature. When you see those hazy, golden-hour landscapes in the film, it’s not just pretty cinematography. It’s a nod to the idea that there is another layer of reality right on top of ours.
It’s heavy stuff for a Netflix thriller. Most people just wanted a popcorn flick, which is probably why the reviews were so mixed. If you go in expecting The Conjuring, you’re going to be disappointed. If you go in expecting a slow-burn psychological drama about the "hell" of a bad marriage, it hits differently.
That Ending Explained (Kinda)
Okay, let’s talk about that ending. It’s divisive.
George tries to sail away after committing multiple murders, thinking he’s escaped. But the sky turns into a literal painting—specifically, a hellish version of an Inness landscape. He crosses the "horizon" into the spirit world. The film uses a voiceover that emphasizes that the world of spirits is not a place you go to, but a state of being you are already in.
George didn't "go" to hell at the end. He was already there.
What You Should Take Away
If you’re planning a rewatch or checking it out for the first time, look past the jump scares. They aren't the point.
- Watch the art: The paintings in the background of George’s office change and reflect his mental state.
- Listen to the sound design: The whispers aren't just random; they are often echoes of things said earlier in the film, showing how the past repeats itself.
- Notice the light: Catherine is almost always filmed in natural, bright light until the very end, while George is increasingly shrouded in shadows.
Actionable Insight:
If you want to dig deeper into the themes of Things Heard and Seen, read Elizabeth Brundage’s All Things Cease to Appear. The book is significantly more detailed regarding the town's history and the internal lives of the characters, especially the three brothers who lived in the house before the Claires. It provides a much clearer picture of the "cycle of violence" the movie tries to portray. Also, check out the works of George Inness at a museum like the Met; seeing the "glow" in person makes the film’s visual style make a lot more sense.
The movie isn't just about ghosts in the walls. It's about the ghosts we carry with us—our lies, our secrets, and the ways we fail the people we're supposed to love. That's a lot harder to exorcise than a noisy spirit.