Knives and Skin is a mystical teen noir that follows a young girl’s disappearance in the rural Midwest and its effect on teens and parents.

A blank-faced woman (Marika Engelhardt) carrying a butcher knife crosses a dim room and knocks on a door. The knife is held high, in a stabber’s pose. “Carolyn?” she calls. “Are you in there? You listening to your records? You still doing your homework? You still not talking to me?” Hearing no answer, she jimmies the door open and enters an empty, weirdly-lit room adorned with the trappings of teenage girlhood. She picks up a sequined dress and puts it on over her clothes. She wears it that way through most of the movie.

What is this?

Two teenagers go parking on the edge of a quarry. Carolyn (Raven Whitley) is wearing a drum majorette’s uniform and a pair of gold glasses. When the boy (Ty Olwin) comes on too strong she spurns him, prompting him to drive away in his car, leaving her alone. She falls to the ground, hitting her head. She cries for help. Things glow. It is very weird.

Then the movie really begins.

It isn’t what you think.

You’d be forgiven for thinking this movie was a supernatural teen slasher from the first seven minutes, but you’d be wrong. Knives and Skin recounts the aftermath of the disappearance of Carolyn, a teenage girl in a small midwestern town. It follows a diverse cast of characters quirky and dark enough to belong to David Lynch, or maybe John Waters, with Dario Argento’s vibrant, surreal lighting.

Meet the missing Carolyn’s mother, wearing her missing daughter’s clothes and sniffing out her scent. Meet the wannabe boyfriend, with Carolyn’s initial carved in his forehead. Meet the man who pretends to go to work but spends his days parked at the quarry in clown makeup. The girls who share their love in the restroom in a unique and poignant way. The woman who sleeps on an aluminum foil pillow. The teacher who buys used underwear. The boy in the beaver costume. Nothing is quite what it seems.

A general, dark silliness pervades the whole town, tinted with a little quiet magic and some amazing music — a capella choral covers of 80s pop and new wave music. It is amazing how moving “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” can be, sung slow and soulful by a choir led by Carolyn’s crying mother.

The townsfolk react in their own unique ways to the news of Carolyn’s disappearance. Sometimes the whole town breaks into song. A search through the woods raises more troubles than answers. Secrets are uncovered. And through all this, teenagers try to get dates to Homecoming, bicker between cliques, and talk in hushed tones about sex in naive terms of “over the shirt” and “touching it.”

Knives and Skin is an odd little movie, the sort that could be off-putting if you’re expecting something normal. But if you just relax and go along for the ride, it’s an unsettling, often funny story where the characters feel real even at their weirdest.