Writer-director Kyle Edward Ball taps into primal fears with his new film Skinamarink. Part found footage, part spy cam, the claustrophobic film follows the intimate exploits of single-digit siblings Kevin (Lucas Paul) and Kaylee (Dali Rose Tetreault) who wake up to discover that their parents have vanished. What’s more,  all windows and doors in their otherwise familiar suburban home have been sealed and a faint, creepy voice beckons them upstairs. While not for everyone, Skinamarink is the type of horror film that taps into a certain level of fear that is normally explored during a therapy session.

As stated, Skinamarink begins with mostly off-camera children waking up to an inky dark version of their familiar home. Their parents Mom (Jaime Hill) and Dad (Ross Paul) are gone. Shot single cam, single light source, the children meander their familiar, albeit darkened home. The two are comforted only by the soft glow of the television and their familiar toys. Softly, a whispy voice beckons them upstairs. Understandably the two kids stick with the familiar and one another, avoiding the siren call of possible security cloaked in inky darkness on the second floor. At first, the children choose to pile blankets in front of the familiar television to watch cartoons. As the night goes on though, the TV offers only so much solace and the cold feeling of abandonment seeps in.

This is all way too simple but if you connect with it you are in for one hell of a ride. Skinamarink mercilessly drags viewers through the opaque lens of childhood fears of abandonment and mystery to force the audience to confront universal demons. Jamie McRae‘s cinematography captures the myopic, grainy filter of childhood nightmares in a way that is surprisingly effective. In a very “Blair Witch” style, we follow as two kids wander through their home alone at night. Sometimes the shots are stationary as if from a surveillance camera, other times we follow the abandoned children as they explore the murky dark. The sound design is also oddly effective. As if recorded on a cassette recorder the tinny echo captures the high-pitched clatter of plastic toys spilled out on the floor while also picking up the puffy whispers of dialogue between the two children.

Understand this, Skinamarink is not for everyone as it requires tremendous patience and a certain connection with the overall aesthetic and idea. But those who find it will be transported to a childhood nightmare. This is more of a tone poem than a story as little else happens aside from two kids, alone at night, left to their own devices. This taps into deep-seated feelings of abandonment, helplessness, and the monsters lingering in the unknown. Don’t watch Skinamarink during the day. Wait until after dark, turn off all the lights, crank the sound, and make yourself a bowl of cereal.

7 out of 10