Never Let Go presents a tangible exercise in just how sturdy the arm rests are on modern theater seats. That’s not to say that they aren’t sturdy, however, the themes director Alexandre Aja explores through his taut visual style will challenge moviegoers looking for an early Halloween experience.

Kevin Coughlin’s and Ryan Grassby’s story puts the audience into the middle of a family’s story; a mother (Halle Berry) and her twin sons, Samuel (Anthony B. Jenkins) and Nolan (Percy Daggs IV) live an isolated life off what the land provides, subsisting on each other for support in the face of increasing tension, both from the apparitions that threaten them and the growing doubts over the apparitions.

Aja’s visual style grounds the reality Mommy, Samuel, and Nolan live in, with the tangibility of their situation rendered through physical ropes, anchored to their abode. These ropes portend their respective tangents while also demonstrating the limits the apparitions have on them while the thick forest surrounding them keeps the vagaries of society from them. Berry plays the trauma for what it is. Her demands of Samuel and Nolan aren’t unexpected under Never Let Go’s survivalist themes.

Watching Jenkins and Daggs react to Berry through Aja’s eyes was unsettling, earning empathy from the audience. Both actors handle it effectively, yet the streamlined pacing of the story makes the character arcs obvious; the suspension of disbelief is itself a victim of the circumstances.

Unfortunately, in trying to ground the horror, and the subsequent unraveling control the apparitions has over the trio coupled with interpersonal tensions between the boys as they begin to question their mom, none of the characters or principal performers is really given an effective way to channel their reactions. The result is more atmospheric as the lifelines unfurl and tatter.

Never Let Go shifts its focus early on as it starts asking questions about what is pulling the strings. However, it fails to effectively answer the questions the story poses. The final fight-or-flight sequence does have its moments but doesn’t effectively convey the situations that led to it.

Perhaps holding on too tightly to conventional psychological-horror-survivalist-driven narratives is a mistake. The characters in Never Let Go react to their situations effectively. It’s the collision between the reasons why the trio are isolated and the eventual outcome that doesn’t play effectively; the guilt between the horrors of being isolated and the unknown onslaught that society brings on the other side aren’t, in fact, too far off the mark. That the story is more visually striking, hauntingly atmospheric and so anti-society strains the credulity of the interpersonal and intrapersonal relationships; Never Let Go is more symbolic of systemic woes than of family woes. Letting go eases some of the story’s issues, but not all of them.

Never Let Go’s tattered lifelines suggest more questions than it answered, the psychology of the terror made for an interesting experience. The three principal performances from Berry, Jenkins, and Daggs can’t carry the uneven storytelling, relying more on director Alexandre Aja’s symbolic visuals.