In present day, she's an ambitious businesswoman working for an oil company based in St. Louis. One day, she's given the opportunity to make a sale in her home state of Texas, specifically in a town called Salle. It's intriguing that she made this decision; before this job opportunity, she had never considered stepping foot into that city. This is because she's had visions of it, much like those of the unknown man and woman. What's worse, her visions force her into acts of self-mutilation, such as cutting into her leg or forehead. Why, I'm not exactly sure; the connections are never fully developed, even by the end of the film. I did get the sense that the filmmakers tried to make the connection crystal clear; because Joanna left Texas under dubious circumstances, and because her family and friends have remained there, tension exists between everyone involved.
But the idea never got off the ground, and that only made the ensuing mystery unnecessarily confusing. Upon entering Salle, Joanna checks into a drab hotel/slaughterhouse (a combination only possible in a supernatural thriller). She then investigates an unnamed local bar, the same one she's been having visions of lately. It would seem that the visions are getting more and more frequent, and for some reason, they all connect with her personally. She struggles to find out why, especially when loner Terry Stahl (Peter O'Brien) comes into the picture. He introduces himself by saving her from her jealous coworker, Kurt (Adam Scott). While Joanna was grateful for Stahl's help, the locals respond with utter disdain. His girlfriend, Annie (Erinn Allison), had been murdered some years earlier, and everyone is convinced that he committed the crime.
Whether or not he did, I dare not say. What I do dare say is that the relationship between him and Joanna is growing, as are her visions, which are gradually becoming more understandable. Consider the fact that she had painted several seahorse pictures as a child; is it any coincidence that Annie had painted something very similar on the inside wall of her barn? Of course it isn't, and neither is the fact that other such visions are leading up to the revelation of Annie's killer. But the question remains: why is Joanna involved at all? Furthermore, why has she been plagued with these mental images for the past fifteen years? How is she to know what to do if she acts on her instincts?
Interestingly enough, these are the exact same questions that ran through my head. Even when everything is explained at the end of the film, an adequate reason for her involvement remains elusive. I didn't feel as if anything had been gained by it, and I should think nothing much would have been lost without her. This is a bad thing; Joanna was created as a heroine figure, yet she's included in a story that doesn't really need one. I say this because the ultimate purpose of "The Return" is to give a grandiose message about something that's relatively miniscule. To be perfectly honest, there was no reason for this story to be told at all; while it wasn't particularly bad, it's still a mere blip on the cinematic radar, one that hardly deserves any special attention. Too bad for Sarah Michelle Gellar; that's what she gets for starring in two ghost movies released less than a month apart.
- Chris Pandolfi
