Right, so, no time for a full-length review of this one, but it’s a film that leaves impressions, that’s for sure. Like the fact that it foregrounds the racism embedded within HP Lovecraft’s storytelling in its vague point-of-view character, a young black man who, by the final scene, is almost literally whitewashed. That’s actually fairly subtle for a film with the main selling point of Nicolas Cage screaming about alpacas. Not that there isn’t more to it (points for aggressive weirdness, and gloopy practical production design straight out of Stuart Gordon’s nightmares). And sure, fair enough, even that screaming alone is something you don’t get from the multiplex every week. But since it’s not showing at my local, is he only screaming into the void? ★★★
Cross-posted from Letterboxd