Skinamarink.
When I first heard about Skinamarink, I thought it sounded like one of those weird Kyle Edward Ball movies. And I was right: it is one of those weird Kyle Edward Ball movies. But is that a bad thing? Let's find out!
The premise is simple: two small children—Kevin and Kaylee—wake up in the middle of the night to discover their father is missing, and the nature of the house is changing erratically. All windows and exterior doors are spontaneously replaced by walls (preventing any escape), toys and other objects warp into eldritch shapes, and household items randomly flicker in and out of existence. Some of the lights still work, but the rest of the house remains in semi- or total darkness. Even the flow of time appears inconsistent.
As Kevin and Kaylee explore the house, they encounter a mysterious and unmistakeably sinister presence. Then, without warning, it begins to speak.
If you're already familiar with Ball's work, you'll have a good idea of what to expect here. If you're not, you're in for a rare treat. Be aware that this is an experimental film, and defies the usual genre categories.
Ball produced Skinamarink on a micro-budget in just seven days, with a case of four, using digitally replicated film grain and aggressive framing techniques. His application of oblique angles is particularly unsettling. Sound design is exceptional for a production of this calibre, and I was impressed by Ball's courageous decision to use a 10 layer audio track without any music.
I rate Skinamarink at 23.31 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as an ambitious 7/10 on IMDB.