Saint Maud

Disaster seems inevitable, but what makes Saint Maud so nail-bitingly tense is that it's impossible to guess the form in which it'll come...

St. Maud marks a stunning feature film debut for writer-director Rose Glass. Understated yet opulent, measured, and intensely creepy, it's a tour de force in balancing uncomfortable levels of tension and suspense with deep pathos.

Glass makes a number of savvy directorial choices throughout Saint Maud, and the sharpest is to limit what we see, hear, and know to her heroine's point of view.

Saint Maud registers as more technically accomplished than deeply felt.

I've seen Saint Maud twice and each time it found new ways to freak me out. Take the leap of faith.

The steady, screw-tightening accumulation of crises making up "Saint Maud" indicate a fully formed talent behind the camera.

Saint Maud combines traditional horror elements with mordant social observation.

There’s an atmosphere of being witness to something otherworldly in Glass’ intimate depiction of one person’s religious mania getting the better of them

In Saint Maud, post-traumatic stress disorder is not told, it is felt.

The many contrasts probed in Saint Maud — good and evil, belief and atheism, celibacy and liberation — are starkly compared and contrasted in the differences between Maud and Amanda.