“When Your Side Chick Is From Beyond the Grave”
If you’ve ever made a bad romantic decision, cheated on someone, and thought, “Well, at least it can’t get any worse,” Crush (2009) is here to prove you wrong. Horribly, hilariously wrong.
Directed by Jeffrey Gerritsen and John V. Soto, this Australian supernatural thriller takes the classic “fatal attraction” setup and adds a ghost who doesn’t understand boundaries—or the concept of mortality. It’s Fatal Attraction meets The Sixth Sense meets House Hunters: Perth Edition, complete with martial arts, architecture, and one extremely pissed-off spirit with a taste for jealous murder-suicide.
And the result? Surprisingly entertaining. A spooky, sleek, and delightfully trashy tale of lust, guilt, and supernatural clinginess—made all the better by the fact that everyone takes it way too seriously.
Julian: The Himbo Who Haunts Himself
Our protagonist, Julian (Christopher Egan), is a martial arts champ, an architecture student, and apparently the most gullible man in Western Australia. He’s also house-sitting for some very rich people, which in horror movie logic means he’s about 20 minutes away from either death or sex with a ghost. (Spoiler: both.)
Julian is dating Clare (Brooke Harman), a nice, normal woman who unfortunately has to deal with her boyfriend’s combination of wandering eyes and pea-sized brain. Their relationship is already shaky—mostly because Julian’s idea of commitment involves occasionally answering texts—and house-sitting for strangers doesn’t help.
Enter Anna (Emma Lung), the mysterious, sultry woman who slinks into his life like a perfume ad gone horribly wrong. She’s got cheekbones, secrets, and an aura that screams “I definitely died in this house.”
Naturally, Julian cheats on Clare faster than you can say “Bad life choices.”
The Seduction: Less Romance, More Red Flag Factory
Anna’s seduction of Julian is almost impressive in its efficiency. She appears in his fancy new house, whispers ominous nothings, and before long he’s shirtless, guilty, and haunted. It’s the ghost equivalent of a Tinder date that won’t stop texting you from the afterlife.
Julian’s downfall is played with such deadpan earnestness that it becomes comedic gold. Christopher Egan gives us a masterclass in “handsome confusion,” a sort of wide-eyed disbelief that doubles as both fear and emotional constipation.
The chemistry between Julian and Anna is part steamy, part funeral. She purrs and seduces; he sweats and looks like he’s about to apologize to God. Every scene between them feels like it’s seconds away from devolving into an exorcism—or an awkward breakup conversation moderated by a priest.
Anna: The Ghost Who Just Wants to Be Loved (and Murder You)
Emma Lung’s Anna deserves a spot in the Hall of Fame for psycho exes, living or dead. She’s seductive, manipulative, and just unhinged enough to make you reconsider every one-night stand you’ve ever had.
What makes Anna such a joy to watch is how sincerely she believes she’s the victim. Sure, she’s a vengeful spirit trying to murder her crush, but in her mind, she’s just “working on the relationship.”
When she’s not caressing Julian’s face or whispering threats about eternal love, she’s busy sabotaging his life—deleting his assignments, wrecking his career, and metaphorically (and literally) haunting his every move. It’s a great metaphor for guilt, or maybe just bad taste in women.
Clare: The Real MVP (a.k.a. The Woman Who Deserves Better)
Meanwhile, poor Clare is out here living in a different movie—one that’s probably a wholesome drama about patience and emotional growth. Unfortunately for her, she’s dating a man who has accidentally summoned a ghost by being horny.
Brooke Harman plays Clare with an understated grace that makes her scenes genuinely sympathetic. She’s the voice of reason in a movie where everyone else is either possessed, delusional, or dead. You want her to escape, to move on, to get a new boyfriend who doesn’t come with an undead third wheel.
Instead, she gets a promise from the afterlife that Anna will “take care of her.” Which, knowing Anna, probably involves possession, stalking, or a really long ghostly lecture about boundaries.
The Plot Twist: I See Dumb People
Things take a turn when Julian starts realizing that Anna isn’t just clingy—she’s corpse clingy. When he casually mentions her name to the homeowners, their reaction suggests he’s just said “Voldemort” at a funeral. Turns out, Anna is their dead junkie niece who fell down the stairs years ago.
You’d think this would be a red flag for Julian, but no. Instead, he doubles down on denial like a man trying to un-cheat on his girlfriend through sheer willpower. He investigates, freaks out, and ends up trapped in the very house he was supposed to protect.
The haunting escalates quickly: walls shake, banshees scream, and Julian gets tormented by guilt, ghosts, and bad lighting. Anna transforms from sexy femme fatale to decaying ghoul faster than his GPA drops.
By the time she’s whispering, “Be with me forever,” Julian finally grows a spine long enough to say, “I’ll never love you.” Which, in ghost-relationship terms, is the nuclear breakup button. She promptly shoves him down the stairs to his death—the same way she died. It’s poetic, in the same way a car accident set to smooth jazz is poetic.
The Ending: Love Never Dies (But It Should)
Julian wakes up in a hospital bed, disoriented but alive—or so he thinks. A nurse leans over him and asks who he wants to see. He says “Clare,” because apparently he learned nothing from this entire ordeal.
The nurse replies, “Wrong answer,” and—surprise!—it’s Anna. Again. Because death can’t stop true obsession, especially when it’s supernatural and armed with lipstick.
As Julian realizes he’s dead, Anna kisses him and promises to “take care” of Clare. The screen fades, leaving you wondering whether that means haunting, murder, or an aggressively awkward girls’ night.
Either way, it’s the most romantic ending you’ll see in a movie about ghost adultery.
Themes: Guilt, Lust, and the Dangers of House-Sitting
Crush may be about ghosts, but at its core, it’s a story about guilt—the kind that festers until it manifests as a vengeful spirit with great hair and worse coping mechanisms. It’s also about how every bad decision in life begins with the words “It’s not cheating if no one finds out.”
There’s a real undercurrent of morality running through this film, albeit wrapped in melodrama and gothic absurdity. Julian’s downfall is self-inflicted. He invites temptation into his life, indulges it, and pays the ultimate price. The haunting isn’t just supernatural—it’s karmic.
But don’t worry, it’s not too deep. The film knows when to wink at itself, layering the tension with just enough absurdity to make it fun. When a martial arts student fights off a banshee with a flashlight, you can’t help but admire the audacity.
Performances and Style: Gothic Glow-Up in Perth
Visually, Crush punches above its budget. Perth has never looked so moody and menacing, all shadows and sterile modernism. The luxury house is both a dream and a nightmare—glass walls, echoing hallways, and enough empty space to guarantee an echo every time someone screams.
Christopher Egan’s performance is charmingly straight-faced, as if he thinks he’s in a Shakespearean tragedy rather than a ghostly soap opera. Emma Lung steals every scene—switching from alluring to horrifying with the precision of someone who’s read The Exorcism for Dummies.
The score leans into melodrama with unashamed gusto, giving every scene the emotional weight of a telenovela funeral.
Final Thoughts: Love Hurts, Lust Haunts, and Ghosts Don’t Knock
Crush is a supernatural guilty pleasure that gleefully blurs the line between thriller and camp. It’s sexy, spooky, and just self-aware enough to keep you entertained. It’s not perfect—it’s barely plausible—but it’s never dull.
And if you take nothing else from this film, take this: never cheat on your girlfriend, especially if the other woman lives in a haunted mansion and doesn’t blink.
Because as Crush reminds us, ghosts might forgive—but they never forget.
Grade: A- (for “Afterlife Affair Gone Awry”)
Crush proves that love can be eternal, lust can be lethal, and if you’re going to house-sit in Australia, maybe just stick to watering the plants.
