Skinamarink

Ninety minutes of ceilings, corners and doorways at four in the morning, and it is either the most frightening thing you have seen or it is nothing at all.

Two small children wake to find their father gone and the windows and doors missing from the house.

Kyle Edward Ball shot it in his childhood home in Edmonton for about fifteen thousand dollars, in extreme low light, at a heavy grain, with the camera almost always pointed at nothing. The children are barely seen. Dialogue is whispered and subtitled.

It is not a narrative. It is an attempt to reproduce a specific childhood experience of a dark house, and the technique is to remove every element a film normally uses to orient you.

People walked out of cinemas. Other people call it the scariest film of the decade. Both reactions are correct responses to what it is doing.

Watch it alone, at night, on the largest screen available.