In the past year or so, I have finally developed an appreciation for 50’s sci-fi horror.  I mention this because I was born well after that era and I had to readjust my way of thinking in approaching these films.

Now, even though I was able to start enjoying those older films, I think it is far more difficult to appreciate innovative horror films from after you have reached a certain point in your life.  It varies from one person to another, but it seems to be around your 30s-40s.  I don’t think it is a coincidence this is around the same time most people lose an interest in following contemporary music trends.

For example: I was amazed by The Blair Witch Project on its initial release, but there is no way my parents would ever understand it.  Even many of my friends roughly my same age had trouble appreciating it.

Now I am experiencing that myself and I find it deeply frustrating.  I first became aware of this in the past decade, with the advent of the “A24” horror movie—not just works from that studio, but similar art-house horror fare.  As much as I enjoyed The Witch, I found I started losing the thread with Hereditary and I never quite recovered.

Now I find myself one more step removed from what appears the first glimmer from what I suspect will be the next age: the creepypasta/ASMR horror film Skinamarink.

I normally try to keep these movie essays spoiler-free, but here is a film where I could tell you what is on the screen at every single second of its 110-minute runtime and I still wouldn’t be giving anything away.  To put it generously, Skinamarink is an audio/visual art piece providing the viewer the canvas upon which they can project their own feelings.  I think it is fair to say the viewers have to meet the movie more than halfway.

I know I gave it my best effort.  I went through all kinds of mental gymnastics to try to understand the current fervor many horror fans have expressed. I even believe I understand why much of the imagery here is supposed to be terrifying, though I was unable to feel that myself. 

When I was a young child, I was afraid of everything, especially the dark.  Little was as scary to me as how unfamiliar my own house could become at night with the lights off or, as this film often does, lit only by the flickering blue glow of a TV screen.  I can even remember staring wide-eyed into the darkness until I thought I could perceive shapes, usually of something sinister.

It is obvious the long static shots of Skinarmink are intended to channel those types of memories.  Apparently, it has succeeded at that for my viewers.  Many of the shots are directed up at a roughly 45 degree angle, as kids are always looking up.  Think about it: as an adult, how often do you notice ceilings?  Yet kids do all the time. 

As for the look of the film, it is like over-irised 8 mm blown up to 35 mm. That’s a lot of grain to imagine you are seeing something in it, yet there’s no payoff 99% of the time.  And the movie uses looong static shots throughout, so we are staring at…um, nothing for long periods of time.

For a 110-minute movie, the hours crawl by.  I cannot recall a time I was more bored watching a film.  Around what felt like hour four, I paused the movie to use the bathroom even though it likely only had a couple of minutes left.  When I saw we actually had 20 minutes remaining, I let fly -a loud stream of obscenities.  I believe I formed new portmanteaus of swear words, and possibly hitherto unknown verb tenses and gerund forms of some profane words.

More than the feeling I had wasted my time, Skinamarink left me deeply frustrated because I wasn’t scared by a single frame of it, even though I think I understand the common fears it tries to tap into.  I love horror, but now I feel it morphing into something which doesn’t resonate with me, regardless of my attempts to establish a connection.

Never before have I felt so old.  You may laugh but, guess what, this will happen to you one day, too.

Dir: Kyle Edward Ball

Starring, technically, nobody. Unless you count the feet of two children, and the backs and legs of two adults. Which I don’t.

Watched on Shudder.