I first learned of Skinamarink about two months ago when a friend texted me late one night with a link to its trailer and said, “I just watched this trailer and it genuinely unnerved me.” I was alone in a room only lit by a tv. Adam was asleep downstairs. The house was quiet. And I clicked on the link. A crackly trailer begins to play, with closeups of doors and carpeted floors and the barefeet and pajama clad legs of children. The only light is from a vintage TV playing old timey cartoons. There’s an unnerving whispering that sounds loud yet far away and a deep voice repeats, “In this house. In this house.” My arms broke out in goosebumps and I was immediately suspicious of the dark hallway outside my room. The trailer continues in this fashion until the very end when a maniacal voice commands the children to “come upstairs” and then small voices scream and cry and the trailer goes black. So you can understand that even before it hit theaters, Skinamarink had the horror community buzzing.
I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting when I went to see the movie in the theater on opening weekend. It was a small theater, with moderate attendance, and we sat only a few rows away from the front. The theater was pitch black and quiet. The screen, huge. It was a perfect atmosphere for a movie that practically demands your absolute attention. But I suppose I assumed the trailer was a teaser to a more straightforward horror movie. A movie with dialogue, plot, characters, soundtrack. But the movie is the trailer. 100 minutes of that trailer.
It is fair to say that this little indie low budget horror movie is an experimental film. It felt like more of an immersive experience than a viewing, and I walked away a little disoriented with a scrunched up look on my face. What the hell was that? And did I like it? I’m still not sure.
I will say that I appreciate everything about Skinamarink. I love that this little low budget movie made with a video camera and the kids of a friend, made with borrowed toys and in the house of the creator’s parents, with almost only the light from an old found tv and recorded with no sound (the sound was recorded separate), landed a major distributor and ended up in the theater (even after being illegally leaked on the internet). I love that this weird little movie made for 15k has made over a million dollars and has gone from a limited release in small quirky theaters to a full release in huge box theaters across the country. This is proof that the horror community will show the fuck up for their weird little movies, and they’ll bring their friends. Proof that despite the streaming world and the bootleg world, that people will still plant their asses in theater seats and support.
So, did I like it? Who cares. Be the change you want to see in the world. Support indie horror with your ten dollars and bring a friend and go sit in a dark theater and watch a weird movie that you may love or that you may hate. At least there’s popcorn.
No comments:
Post a Comment