Skinamarink
Written & Directed by Kyle Edward Ball
Starring: Lucas Paul, Dali Rose Tetreault, Ross Paul and Jaime Hill
Runtime: 1 hour and 40 minutes
In theaters January 13th

by Emily Maesar, Associate Editor, TVJawn

Since the introduction of digital filmmaking, there has been a conversation about how it has affected the horror genre. The noise of film grain (in theaters) and compression onto VHS tapes (at home) created endless possibilities in the dark for viewers. These possibilities cranked up the horror tension and made millions of people lean into the screen. Was there someone lurking in that darkened door frame? Maybe . . . just for a moment. Who can really say?

Many argue (and I agree) that the lack of truly clear shots due to the limits of technology made horror films scarier. The mind could play tricks on a person in ways that seeing something perfectly just doesn’t click. Fear in the unknown is every horror filmmaker's friend. However, as digital filmmaking became the norm, genre filmmakers have had to find ways to bring back the fear that grain and compression gave them. Honestly, even non-genre filmmakers often find the clarity of digital too clean. LiveGrain is (basically) industry standard for a reason.

This need to find the unknowable terror that came from shooting on film and tape gave rise to the found footage and period horror in the digital era. Both subgenres gave the reasoning the industry needed for the visual language of the films to exist. Also, do I still find it weird to call the 1990s “period”? Certainly! But it’s just a fact that means my childhood fears can be called out for the terror that they were at the time that they were. And so, it is in the 1990s that writer/director Kyle Edward Ball sets his horror feature Skinamarink.

Set in 1995, two children wake up alone in their home. Their father is gone . . . and so are all the doors and windows. Anything that might lead them outside has blinked out of existence. To cope, the children go down into the living room and set up a children’s encampment. Blankets, pillows, toys, and the TV playing old cartoons. However, it soon becomes clear that something is there with them.

Truly a film of atmosphere, cinematographer Jamie McRae cranks up Ball’s vision of childhood horror from the very first shot. The film is almost never shot straight on, opting to stare into the abyss of dark corners, giving the audience the distinct impression that the abyss is staring back. Additionally, the film is shot somewhere between found footage, with characters seeming to move the camera around with them, and simple voyeuristic unease. It really is something, and it makes the moments of the camera moving with the characters rather than statically looking at something a subconscious understanding of the horror to come.

Creatively, two of my favorite things that Ball uses are the children’s cartoons and the subtitles. The children’s cartoons are all public domain, and often the loudest noises in the film come from the TV, including the music. The editing around the cartoons and the TV are some of the most unsettling things in the film for me. And then there are the subtitles. Often used because the children are so quiet, the subtitles aren't constant. However, their use is often bone chilling throughout the film.

Made on a micro-budget, Skinamarink gained notoriety on TikTok where it quickly became one of the most anticipated indie horror films of the coming year. However, the internet being what it is means that some of the anticipatory audience (including a few media reviewers) felt it was well within their right to pirate the film. They’re assholes. Many were justifying their very vocal actions with an “exposure” kind of sentiment. It was soon announced that the film had been picked up by IFC Midnight for its US theatrical run, and by Shudder for its streaming release. I’m gonna go out on a limb, as someone who works in TV and knows a bit more about film distribution than the average bear, and say that, for a film like this, that kind of “exposure” can be a killer. I’m thankful that it wasn’t.

Skinamarink is a hell of a film. It’s masterfully and thoughtfully made, terrifying in a million different and often unique ways. Kyle Edward Ball deserves to have the kind of release that he’s getting. There’s no doubt in my mind that this film will haunt my nights for years to come. Also, thank you to Kyle Edward Ball for vindicating my deep-rooted fear of the Chatter Telephone. You’re a real one for that!