"If I lost a leg, would you get yours amputated too?"
"If I was kidnapped, would you offer to take my place?"
"If I die, will you die too?"
These are the interrogations September (Pascale Kann) poses to her younger sister July (Mia Tharia) in September Says, Ariane Labed's eerie directorial debut that asks the question, how close is too close when it comes to siblings?
Adapted from Daisy Johnson's 2020 novel Sisters, the horror-tinged drama starts as the not-quite-twins navigate teenage girlhood and moves into an increasingly dangerous game. Not your typical coming-of-age tale, the film presents a complicated experience of intertwined identities, exploring the force of family and sisterhood and what it feels like to be a young brown girl in white environments.
I didn't realise I'd been holding my breath until the credits started to roll, gripped by convincing performances from newcomers Tharia and Kann, and left with questions about the long shadows of sisters — and whether we can ever truly step out of them.
September’s junior by only eleven months, July is shy and quiet, eyes glued to the floor and arms tight across her chest. September, on the other hand, is confident and brash, working the crowd at their mum Sheela's (Sex Education’s Rakhee Thakrar) art show opening and cutting off the plait of July’s school bully. July is shoved firmly under September’s wing, whether she likes it or not, until an as-yet-unseen incident forces the trio to retreat to a relative's holiday home in Ireland (in the book it's North Yorkshire).
On top of the painful awkwardness of making friends and having crushes, the girls are mixed-race with an Indian mother and an absent father, a whisper of violence in their parents’ relationship. This additional layer of otherness doesn’t help their outsider status, July’s meekness a magnet for mocking and the pains of puberty tinged with racism as classmates laugh at their dark body hair in a swimming lesson. While neither Johnson's book nor Labed's film dives into the girls’ mixed-race heritage, we see echoes in their unstable identities; September is overprotective and self-assured while July is introverted, not confident enough to take up space like her sister.
All of this draws the sisters together in a bond that oversteps the boundaries of closeness. July looks up to her older sister, claiming that September is who she always wanted to be. September loves being in the spotlight and prides herself on being able to “look after” July when depressive Sheela hasn’t been able to.
But September’s ego pushes her overprotectiveness into something more sinister, more controlling, a mood that ramps up as the girls find themselves left to their own devices in Ireland. With Sheela largely withdrawn to her bedroom, the sisters raid the dusty alcohol cupboard, watch nature documentaries, and forage the fridge for cold pasta. They have to feed, clean and occupy themselves, with not even an internet connection for entertainment. So, they go old school.
It’s here that the movie’s titular game, a version of "Simon Says," takes on a menacing tone, September relishing her power over July. July is uncomfortable with the escalating commands, which jump from eating a whole jar of mayonnaise to cutting her neck with a knife. But if she doesn’t play by the rules, she’ll "lose a life." "Silly July," September laughs, demanding unyielding loyalty from her sister.
At first, July obeys every command. The mayonnaise is eaten, July's neck bleeds. But an interaction (with a local teenage boy, of course) at the beach is a catalyst for July to begin breaking free of September’s hold. Suddenly the object of someone else's interest, July begins to see what independence could look like — a boyfriend, even a life of her own — before it's swiftly snatched away. It's this sexual awakening, teased earlier in the film, that proves pivotal for the sisters' relationship — and one which builds to an eerie crescendo in the third act.
With July becoming increasingly scared of September’s reckless behaviour and dangerous demands, the dependency between the sisters starts to splinter. July is still hooked on her sister’s attention, craving autonomy and normalcy, even if she’s not quite sure how to achieve that. September’s presence becomes spectral, more felt than seen, disappearing from rooms before popping up behind July in bathroom mirrors. Increasingly, the sisters seem to merge into a single presence.
Threaded with hints of horror, from September and July’s twin-like almost telepathic bond to the opening scene, where Sheela dresses her daughters as the Grady twins from The Shining for a photoshoot, there’s a creeping sense of the supernatural about September Says. Shots of razors, knives, and blood are overlaid with the sisters communicating with looks, touches, animalistic grunts or even whistles — July’s Pavlovian response to September’s sharp whistle marks an unsettling moment towards the end of the film.
This is not your typical teenage coming-of-age story. There are hallmarks of the genre – underage beers around a campfire, a first kiss, rebellions against Sheela’s authority – but September Says explores something much deeper than finding your voice. It’s a probing of intertwined identities, the force of family and what it feels like to be a young brown girl in white environments.
The film’s twist is perhaps not entirely unguessable, but that doesn’t detract from its quiet build and increasingly claustrophobic atmosphere. With a sparse script, minimal score and grainy visuals, plus the remote setting of the house in Ireland, which looks like it’s been left untouched for decades, audiences are drawn into the sisters’ insular world.
Sisterhood is a complicated experience — growing up with the same blood or in the same household is often portrayed to be like having a built-in best friend or eternal enemy. September Says puts forward a knottier reality, September and July’s relationship blending love and hate. The question we’re left with is how long September’s hold on July will last as she’s forced to step out of her older sister’s shadow or whether the battle scars are far too deep to ever fade.
September Says was reviewed out of its UK release in February 2025. U.S. release to be announced.
