The greatest horror film I have ever seen.

The protagonist, Eve, feels what confirms her beliefs; she struggles to see otherwise. Perhaps that’s so because she’d rather not believe otherwise–but the world will not let her have it otherwise. In this, I think, is its horror: incongruous sensation may be repressed, but the world cannot be so neatly filtered. In specters, demons, dreams it haunts Eve. But it only steamrolls her. If Eve really did try to wrestle with the truth of something she couldn’t feel—questioning it, agonizing over it—at least this would have been a more psychologically interesting film.

I was alone in the theater. I looked at Pedro, I saw the Phoenix—the star power was there! You must not get me wrong. However, it lacked a meaningful message to make sense of the politics that it critiqued. And, even if some meaningful message could be deciphered, it couldn’t be said to be a positive one: the film ended in tragedy. While I agree that politics may be tragic, I think that art should not only be a place where one could make sense of those politics but also a place to articulate of vision for what, politically, should be the case.