First up, this isn’t a horror film. It’s more of a meditation on existence, sex, gender, love, and the cycle of life, albeit one that happens to involve a hideous, seemingly ageless witch with black claws and a taste for blood.
It doesn’t have a horror film’s pacing either; it flows dreamily. When the transitions between sequences involve some bloodshed, mostly we just see the aftermath.
Instead, the tone is pastoral, the voiceover that of someone never taught proper language skills, so it’s a fragmented poetry. The motivations for the main character are rooted in connection, family, and sacrifice. There’s a beauty to the main character’s journey — a mythic quality too.
Visually, it recalls Eggers’ The Witch (unsurprisingly) by…