Personal Grief: A Ghost Story Like No Other

By Emma Kershaw

Olivier Assayas’ Personal Shopper (2016) begins as you’d expect of any paranormal feature– dark, moody scenes accompanied by a deafening silence, broken by the odd creak of a floorboard, or slam of a door. But, as the story unravels, and we delve further into Assayas’ eerie world, we see that Personal Shopper is so much more than your standard supernatural thriller.

In her second project with Assayas, a role that he wrote specifically for her, Kristen Stewart plays Maureen Cartwright, an American living in Paris and working as a personal shopper for demanding, high-profile celebrity Kyra Gellman (Nora von Waldstätten). Maureen makes it very clear that she hates her job – and her boss – but is sticking around in Paris in the hopes of connecting with her recently departed twin. Her brother Lewis died suddenly as a result of a heart malformation, a condition Maureen shares.

A self-proclaimed spiritual medium, as was her brother, Maureen visits Lewis’ old house in the outskirts of Paris every night, waiting for a sign from him. Maureen is holding out hope for a signal from the afterlife but, as she is living in a perpetual state of limbo, it becomes clear that Assayas is more interested in exploring the nuance of a young woman who is haunted by her profound grief. 

The famous Kubler-Ross model explaining the five stages of grief as; denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance; are interchangeable and not always linear. Although not necessarily all at the same level of intensity, Maureen experiences each of these five stages. Through her behaviour, it is evident that she has been deeply affected by the death of her brother and Personal Shopper allows us, as witnesses to her grief, to explore its emotional layers. 

At the beginning of the film, Maureen can be seen extensively searching for signs that her twin is still present at the house. So fixated on making contact, she is in denial. By prolonging her stay in Paris and, in trying so hard to make a connection with him, she is suppressing the grieving process. She spends each night creeping around the house’s abandoned walls, looking and listening for a sign – any sign – of her brother. Most of the film’s set up is dedicated to this first stage, as Maureen anticipates a visit from Lewis. This allows the traditional unearthly conventions of the psychological thriller genre, including unexplained thuds and creaks, to play out on a narrative level.

As these events occur, Maureen transitions to the second stage of her grief: anger. Her rage is evident as she begins to demand more from ‘Lewis’. “Is that it?” she shouts as water faucets begin to turn on by themselves. “I need you to talk to me. I don’t understand.” This all leads to the appearance of a ghostly presence, startling Maureen, who then flees the house. Maureen’s reaction to the spirit’s appearance shows the vulnerability and torment that she is feeling but is trying so desperately to hide. She is expecting to communicate with her brother but, when faced with the possibility that this connection has been made, she is frightened and removes herself from the situation, something that, as a viewer, we would not have expected from her.

Maureen’s anger is prevalent throughout most of Personal Shopper and, though open to interpretation as to whether this is something that has stemmed from her brother’s death, or if it has been a long-term emotion, it is explored during a video call to her boyfriend, Gary, who is working away in Muscat, Oman. Speaking about her job, Maureen tells Gary, “I hate this job, actually. I hate her [Kyra], she sucks,” to which he replies, “That’s not what you said before.” This implies that Maureen’s anger towards her job is recent and may be a result of her grief. As we have no point of reference for Maureen’s life or disposition before her brother’s death, we are unable to assign certainty to the causality of her now simmering emotions.

Next is bargaining, which takes place within the mind, in trying to explain the things that could have been done differently. This is touched on very briefly through Maureen’s visit to the doctor for her biannual heart scan. Here, the doctor tells Maureen that she needs to avoid intense physical efforts and extreme emotions, “Don’t be scared,” he continues. “What happened to Lewis was very exceptional.” As the scan comes to an end, the doctor tells Maureen that he will see her again in six months, to which she responds, “I have no idea where I am going to be in six months.” This could be her signposting the beginning of the fourth stage: depression. 

Assayas has said in interviews that Stewart joked that her “co-stars are her thumbs” and this rings true during the twenty-minute thumb-texting exchange between Maureen and Unknown, who is tormenting her as she passes between England and France. For this period of the film, no dialogue is spoken, and the only noise to break the silence is the frequent vibration of Maureen’s phone, aurally highlighting the impact of the conversation. 

It is during these texting scenes where Stewart skilfully conveys how depression manifests itself in grief, delving deep into the vehement emotions that come with losing a loved one. Maureen’s despair and anguish are felt as she, through a stream of tears and shaking hands, types out hasty replies to the anonymous texter. Maureen replies with a series of questions including “Are you real?” and “Are you alive or dead?”, showing that while she hopes this may be the sign she’s been waiting for from her twin, she is also fearful. As the mysterious texter continues to taunt her, Maureen engages in reckless behaviour, influenced by whoever is beyond her phone screen. She spends the night at Kyra’s house and tries on her dresses, something that is forbidden. Very out of character for Maureen, her actions could be a way of coping with her depression. Moreover, as they are never truly accounted for, the pervasive text messages, along with the spectral presences, may be a manifestation of Maureen’s depression and, again, an expression of her need for connection. 

Finally, as the film ends, we begin to see hints of acceptance from Maureen. Due to these liberating events, following the haunting text messages, Maureen decides it is finally time to leave Paris, and join Gary in Muscat. As she prepares to leave, she visits Lewis’ girlfriend Lara (Sigrid Bouaziz), and Erwin (Anders Danielsen Lie), Lara’s new boyfriend, who was friends with Lewis prior to his death. Maureen and Erwin discuss the possibility that Lewis’ soul is still present and, as a gust of wind stirs, a figure appears to walk behind Maureen before a glass levitates and falls to the floor. 

Once in Muscat, and alone in her room, Maureen hears a noise and sees a glass floating, before smashing to the ground. Again, she asks questions, accepting a single thump for ‘yes’ and two thumps for ‘no’. Lastly, she asks, “Lewis, is it you?”, which is met with silence. She then follows up, “Or is it just me?”. Her final question receives a single thump for yes, leaving narrative ambiguity but metaphorical certainty: having lost her brother in life, Maureen is now alone, answered only by her grief. 

Reflecting on Personal Shopper and my own recent experience with grief, I see a lot of myself in Maureen and the way she has handled the sorrow and anguish that comes with – true in both our cases – sudden loss. Although a work of fiction, the raw emotions shown throughout the film are very real, allowing me to remember that such feelings are completely valid and, as we see by the end, that there is hope and peace can be found, eventually. 

Personal Shopper perfectly deciphers the emotional horror that comes with losing a loved one. Emotions are heightened, and there is an air of curiosity that comes with them, wondering if our loved ones are at peace. Despite scepticism, for many people, throughout the grieving process, there is a need to try and connect to the other side. Personal Shopper dives deep into the complexities of grief and, as such, is a ghost story like no other – one that will continue to prove relatable and provide comfort for viewers who, like Maureen, are looking for that closure. 

Emma Kershaw is a freelance journalist currently based in Manchester. She writes about culture, fashion, travel and more. Keep up with her work on Twitter @emmagkershaw

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