Skinamarink

Skinamarink is a downright evil film that isn’t afraid to stalk the emotional core of your nostalgia until it morphs into something unrecognizably petrifying.

By the end I was more bored than frightened.

It’s an unsettling Rorschach test with a haunting ending that will settle in the pit of your stomach like a stone. But it can be a polarizing experience that pushes the limits of patience.

Taps into a primal fear of a child waking up in the night finding the things they take comfort (home, toys, cartoons) twisted into something nightmarish in the dark.

It's only January, but this might be the most divisive horror movie of 2023 if people actually go see it. I might hate it myself; it's kind of hard to tell.

The images appear to be the tip of an iceberg, but there’s no iceberg beneath them.

Director Kyle Edward Ball, inspired by a more than striking debut, offers a work that immerses you in the singular, the disturbing, and the terrifying. [Full review in Spanish]

Even though [Skinamarink] has cemented its place as one of my favourite releases of 2023, I almost feel I'd have better odds playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun than finding someone to recommend it to who'd actually enjoy it.

For those willing to lose themselves in its atmospheric horror, “Skinamarink” is a surreal mix of high strangeness, acute anxiety and reflective melancholy.

The experimental horror film is full of throbbing rooms of darkness and told from an unreliable, distorted POV with a liminal dimensional rift throw in for good measure.