They Remain

"They Remain" does what it means to do. It makes the natural feel threateningly alien.

The whole story, such as it is, seems to exist on the level of metaphor, but even metaphors need some definition and weight to keep us interested.

The movie's essential ingredients are simply two good actors, a lab compound, surveillance cameras and an eerie forest that may be driving the characters mad.

It's an engrossing exercise in boiling familiar ingredients down to pure, unbridled creepiness.

With little in the way of plot (the source material is a short story), this sci-fi-tinged horror film is carried solely by the actors and atmosphere, and in the case of the former, it mostly succeeds.

Philip Gelatt's pretentious thriller devolves from inscrutability to incoherence at a laborious pace.

[The film] pitches its tent in a disorienting space between nature and cult(ure), as Sean Kirby's initially lyrical camerawork takes on an increasingly hallucinatory urgency, and Keith falls prey to paranoia delusion.

Dull and chatty, like a staged reading of a horror script.

They Remain, the first filmed take on [Laird Barron's] work, manages to replicate a gratifying amount of that distinctive vibe, infusing the story with large doses of free-form agoraphobic anxiety. It lingers.

The final sequence is not only surprisingly satisfying, but offers us an uncomfortable moment that resembles closure, while avoiding an overly clean denouement. Unfortunately, the effectiveness of this ending highlights the weakness that preceded it.

... manages some intermittent tension, bolstered by a pair of strong performances, yet there are too many sequences where nothing of consequence happens.

While it runs a bit too long, the direction is impeccable, the acting brilliant, and the ending pays off the slow build with something explosive yet heady.