I'm going to pick a really quiet but effective moment in the film--the point at which Mary is leaving town after the accident, and stops her car on the bridge to look down at the water for a moment. That's when I knew I was in for a frightening viewing experience. No dialogue...just some nice black-and-white photography, a wisp of uneasy music, and a look of foreboding on Mary's face. Subtle, but striking! It was kind of like being outside at the end of a long, humid summer and feeling the first chill of autumn in the air.
Oh, yeah, I love those little subtle things. As much as I love some of the "louder" moments with the Man and the other phantom people, those little quiet moments make the movie in their own way. I also love the bits where she's just wandering around the pavilion, even before she sees anything. I tend to take long walks and wander into strange places, and the bit where she goes out onto the large roofed deck and looks out reminds me of a hundred nameless and half-forgotten places I've wandered when alone and bored. It
feels like that sort of haunting, charged atmosphere of a strange, isolated place that should have people in it but doesn't. I'm glad I came here; reading people's comments and writing my own, I'm realizing even more than I did before that this movie is one of a kind.
This is my new sig. Do you like it?
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