The most inexplicable thing here is that Howard's phone number is not 555-DUCK.
My idea of a horror film, in which a momentary impulse renders you forever unknowable. Klaus masterfully grounds the film in a quotidian contentment so meticulously conveyed that it never plays as the prelude to inevitable calamity (despite its Austrian roots), nor is it overwhelmed by metaphor. What occurs in that moment represents the breakdown of not only a steadfast bond but also identity and seemingly physics. Klaus understands that the inexplicable is uniquely terrifying and resists taking even the…