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Thursday, 15 October 2020

Saint Maud Review

The latest game news from IGN - one of my fave channels ever - check it out IGN serves a global audience, so with Saint Maud now playing in UK cinemas as well at Beyond Fest in the US, we are publishing our review from Kristy Puchko who watched the movie at a press screening pre-pandemic. Read more on IGN's policy on movie reviews in light of COVID-19 here. IGN strongly encourages anyone considering going to a movie theater during the COVID-19 pandemic to check their local public health and safety guidelines before buying a ticket. [poilib element="accentDivider"] Loneliness can be a dangerous whirlpool. A slight tug of sadness pulls to an intense ache of isolation, sucking its victim into a vicious downward spiral that threatens to swallow them whole. This hellish experience is the unnerving journey explored in the cerebral yet carnal horror film, Saint Maud. In her feature directorial debut, writer/helmer Rose Glass ushers audiences into the world of a pious young nurse called Maud (a mesmerizing Morfydd Clark). On the surface, she seems meek and modest, a mousy Christian twenty-something who dresses conservatively and dedicates herself to caring for the terminally ill in home-based hospice care. But from the film's first scene, Glass warns us of Maud's inner darkness. Before this mild-mannered young woman moves from her humble studio apartment into the lavish home of Amanda (a fierce Jennifer Ehle), a celebrated choreographer who is inching towards death, Maud is shown with blood on her hands, gaping in horror at a gory corpse draping off a hospital gurney. Is this the future or the past? A threat or a trauma? Saint Maud delights in teasing out the answer by plunging us into the mind of its protagonist. [ignvideo width=610 height=374 url=https://ift.tt/3m2AWXN] Though outwardly timid, Maud has a rich inner life. She speaks to God throughout her day in a whispered voiceover. It's not just prayers. Maud gossips to God, criticizing the hedonistic indulgences of booze, cigarettes, vanity, and lesbian sex that Amanda enjoys in her numbered days. Maud believes there's a greater joy to be found in salvation. Her relationship with God has shown her as much. Though God is silent in their conversations, He sends rushes of love that hit Maud as body-rattling orgasms, twisting her limbs into fits of pleasure and contorting her mouth and eyes into jarring distortions. But God is not her only love. As she grows captivated by Amanda's smirks, saltiness, and sensuality, Maud fantasizes about saving this hedonist's soul. Through this self-ordained mission, Maud briefly breaks free from her loneliness by appeasing her God and impressing Amanda. However, her zealotry crosses a line that'll push this wild-eyed waif down a dangerous path of revolt, revelation, and reckless redemption. The narrative Glass chisels is etched in anxiety, heartache, and religious fervor. Every scene throbs with an eerie tension, as each one pulls us deeper into Maud's state of mind. Flashbacks, dream sequences, and voiceover allow us to bear witness to her darkest secrets, unspoken prayers, and repressed desires. Sound design wretched with metallic scraping, watery echoes, and groans of pressure throbs throughout to express the building emotions that Maud doesn't dare express. This nightmarish soundscape swells, threatening to consume us as these dark moods threaten to consume her. Yet we are more than the audience to Maud's melancholy and madness. We are ultimately her God, seeing all as she turns to virtue and then vice to grasp desperately for the solace of love and connection. We are invited to judge her every move with a blend of empathy and horror. Then, we are left to wonder what it all says about humankind. [widget path="global/article/imagegallery" parameters="albumSlug=igns-best-reviewed-movies-of-2020&captions=true"]

from IGN Reviews https://ift.tt/3dvE2R1
This could be a real lead forward for personal gaming... Revolutionise gaming

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