This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Seen in 35mm. It's gorgeous and the oppressive first two acts are primo Eggers. Fuckin exsanguinated (eh? ehh?) the color out of it and I ate that shit up. Obsessive insistence on natural lighting. Chef's kiss. Say no more Robbie, I'm here for it.
What I had a little of a hard time with was the amount of explaining, both on the part of Skarsgård and Dafoe towards the end. Managed to take what Murnau solves in an intertitle of…
Integration of the senses. Light and sound become tactile, dimensional. Remember the scene in Videodrome where James Woods' TV bulges and pulsates - appearing to come to life out of sheer force of will? This is the primordial origin. This is video at its infancy, crying out to be loved and cherished, to be molded, trained, taught. It's the flight of electrons bent into otherworldly architecture. Light is given weight and allowed to drape over eerily familiar shapes. Completely transcendent.
