Skinamarink (2022)
Director: Kyle Edward Ball
Writer: Kyle Edward Ball
Cast: Lucas Paul, Dali Rose, Ross Paul, Jaime Hill
Experimental films are quite a gamble for any filmmaker to take. Very rarely do they see the hopeful success that cements their place in the cultural zeitgeist. However, most times, that kind of roll of the dice often ends in snake eyes. Fortunately, for writer/director Kyle Edward Ball, his experimental film, Skinamarink, rolled a lucky number seven. With a budget of $15,000 and box office take of $2 million, this low budget art film achieved a feat reminiscent of Blair Witch success, but unlike the found footage thriller, Ball’s art house look into the haunted house subgenre of horror has managed to keep itself rather divisive with audiences and critics alike, and for good reason. Both its subject matter and execution aren’t for everyone.
Skinamarink follows Kaylee and Kevin, two children who wake up one evening to the realization that their father is gone and all of the doors and windows in the house have become walls. After setting themselves up in the living room, the siblings then hear voices coming from other places in the house and the terror grows from there. Conceptually, this film successfully hits a sensitive spot for people, especially parents, as it deals with death and child abuse from the perspective of the children in a way that very much sticks with subtlety and never beats you over the head with its message. Ball doesn’t condescend to his audience, and that’s an admirable thing. That cryptic delivery does result, however, in the message being a bit muddled and therefore, up to interpretation. Is it about the death of Kevin and his transition to the other side? Is he in a coma and experiencing communication from his sister and an entity from the afterlife as he faded away? Both are possible scenarios and it all depends upon how you’ve perceived it, but isn’t that what’s great about art?
The execution, however, left a bit to be desired. While the presentation is nothing short of ambitious, it does lend itself to being a tough to understand delivery of the heavy and poignant message. The greatest and most engaging aspect of it is the 70s style grainy aesthetic–a reminder of many low budget and foreign films of the time. This makes for a haunting atmosphere from the get-go that keeps the audience visually engaged for most of the film. These are, of course, very positive qualities of the movie’s aesthetic, but unfortunately it doesn’t save the film from becoming a bit of a bore quite quickly. The constant long shots of walls, doors, and various parts of the house tend to halt the progression of the story in between pivotal scenes. It tries to build tension but instead leads to the equivalent of a waiting room. With those seemingly unnecessary swaths of nothingness, telling this story would probably have been more compelling as a short film.
Skinamarink is an example of the effective and careful delivery of a heavy subject that is aware of its potential audience. It keeps in mind the sensitive nature behind what it wants to say, but at the expense of compelling execution. If you can get past the nothingness, a watch is recommended, but unfortunately it might not have very good rewatchability.
Skinamarink is available to stream on Shudder.