The ominous undercurrent of divine revelation
When you grow up as a skeptic with religious parents, there comes a day when you start asking yourself, "If they had to choose between me or their god, who would it be?" It's an unsettling thought, and it undoubtedly cast a pall over my childhood, along with the fear of hell. Thankfully, I was only able to intellectualize these assessments rather than truly feel them, and despite my parents' best efforts to appear devout, my mental scales of their choice always tipped my way.
Director Bill Paxton needles at these fears sharply in this video-store classic from 2001. Its old-school aesthetics are pleasantly nostalgic, even in their TV-esque tendencies. Some of the revelations are head-scratchers, but it's well-worth it for the handful of gasps and well-directed sequences. As a horror film, Paxton is able to render chilling moments in dark dungeons and in broad daylight, bringing the true ominous undercurrent of divine revelation to the surface.
The ominous undercurrent of divine revelation
When you grow up as a skeptic with religious parents, there comes a day when you start asking yourself, "If they had to choose between me or their god, who would it be?" It's an unsettling thought, and it undoubtedly cast a pall over my childhood, along with the fear of hell. Thankfully, I was only able to intellectualize these assessments rather than truly feel them, and despite my parents' best efforts to appear devout, my mental scales of their choice always tipped my way.
Director Bill Paxton needles at these fears sharply in this video-store classic from 2001. Its old-school aesthetics are pleasantly nostalgic, even in their TV-esque tendencies. Some of the revelations are head-scratchers, but it's well-worth it for the handful of gasps and well-directed sequences. As a horror film, Paxton is able to render chilling moments in dark dungeons and in broad daylight, bringing the true ominous undercurrent of divine revelation to the surface.
