Minimalistic brilliance highlighted by slow camera movement, stilted angles, and dark photography. Skinamarink has me feeling a kinda way that I haven't experienced in horror since The Blair Witch Project, reducing the plot down to almost nothing and broadening the scope of fear through the eyes of the protagonists. This film has a subtle power to both induce nostalgia and make you tremble in your boots, feeling the claustrophobia of the home as if you were waking up in the middle of a sleepwalking episode during your youth. The house is small yet the fear of the unknown is large, trying to find your parents or those who comfort you when the darkness takes over. Great use of dialogue and sounds, as well as general patience, limiting the visuals of human faces and bodies.