She Dies Tomorrow

A dizzying and an extraordinarily ambitious project, if She Dies Tomorrow doesn't hit you in the guts, you should probably check your pulse.

The film is never less than time-passingly bonkers, but I rarely found it much more than that either, and its plot is so deliberately opaque that it seems to be daring you to mentally check out at every non-turn and un-twist.

a horror movie which reduces its central fear to the most fundamental form of existential dread.

Alternately hilarious and spine-tingling, it recalls David Lynch's Twin Peaks in its serious, penetrating sense of doom.

Does it amount to more than that experiment -- a cinematic, sensory exercise in portraying existential dread in a heightened way that reflects a universal human experience? I'm not sure it does. But maybe that should be enough.

The characters are just awful. Superficial, inarticulate, mewling dolts. So odious, in fact, that you wonder if this is satire.

She Dies Tomorrow lacks the thrills of conventional horror, but is more than thought-provoking enough to merit your time.



This film is not for everyone. The responses have been quite divisive and understandably so. But those of us who get this movie, really get it. I have a feeling that I’ll be revisiting this movie regularly.

The dread of awaiting some unknown apocalypse is palpable. It's slow, undramatic, but you'll be thinking it over for a long time after the credits roll.

Even though Seimetz’s ‘ideological contagion’ might have its roots in coping strategies for depression and a range of mental health issues, the director works wonders by imagining how one might react upon learning about their imminent death.