Skinamarink by Eric Lindbom. Two snakes.
Once in a blue (or you lycanthropes should I say full) moon comes a cult work that challenges the perimeters of a horror audience’s expectations and endurance.
To say Skinamarink tries the patience of viewers doesn’t mean it’s implausible, predictable, unimaginative or shoddy. Instead, this $15,000 shoestring nightmare from writer/director Kyle Edward Ball and cinematographer Jamie McRae dares the viewer to wade into an endless series of often off kilter shots from the inside of a house.
While the purposely low grade video look reminds us of found footage shockers, the images aren’t exhumed after the fact. The unsettling events unfurl In real time. We listen and watch two young, frightened children trapped at home. Their parents make brief audio appearances before mysteriously vanishing as do all doors and windows. An evil force, which may be physical, ghostly or a hallucination speaks to them (sometimes in subtitles).
Visually, we continually see through the kids’ eyes in an endless series of POV shots throughout their home. A procession of kitschy public domain cartoons play on a VCR screen in the background throughout much of the film. There are but a handful of fleeting shock images but generally the mood is one of dread and unease.
As far as plot, that’s it (the masterful, still influential Blair Witch Project is War and Peace story-wise by comparison). The very definition of a trip, Skinamarink is all about the journey not its ambiguous destination.
Criticizing a DIY experiment as audacious as Skinamarink is a thankless, churlish task but here goes. Yes, Ball has created an undeniably original work of (depending on one’s take) art or craft. Like Andy Warhol’s Sleep or Empire, it’s easy to imagine it running in a loop at a museum versus a theater. Some may prefer it that way and view it as watching paint dry.
No matter what, at 100 minutes Skinamarink crawls on way too long. It would lose little cumulative impact as a short subject (or at least an airplane version). Many viewers will either sink into a butt busting stupor or a trance if they can hang with Ball’s wavelength. Those willing to try should catch it theatrically. While it’s due to appear on the Shudder streaming service, it will likely be a tough sit for the couch bound especially with the remote nearby.
Eric Lindbom is a hardcore horror buff with a strong stomach, weaned on the Universal classics from the ’30s and ’40s. He’s written film and/or music reviews for City Pages, Twin Cities Reader, LA WEEKLY, Request magazine and Netflix. He co-edits triggerwarningshortfiction.com, a site specializing in horror, fantasy and crime short stories with illustrations by co-editor John Skewes. He lives in Los Angeles.
