'The Wailing (2016)' is an affair that sticks with you, leaving you to turn it over and over in your mind long after its credits have rolled. It's a constantly evolving experience, moving through several somewhat distinct acts defined only by your understanding of its plot's events. This is evidence of its keen awareness of its audience, as it is able to predict what you're thinking in order to set up a blindsiding reveal. A lot of the narrative is ambiguous, despite a fairly concrete end, and it makes for an extremely enigmatic watch, one in which your assumptions are always shifting and, somehow, never quite correct. When you think back on the piece, you realise how meticulously crafted it is right from the opening shot. It's exactly what it needs to be, even if it does sometimes seem slightly meandering and you can certainly feel its length. It's never even close to boring, constantly keeping you engaged and occasionally wrenching you to the edge of your seat. It's the kind of film that sneaks up on you; you don't realise your heart is in your mouth until it's too late. It's as much a mystery as it is a horror, but it's ultimately rather frightening. It has moments of wince-inducing gore, creepy imagery and unbearable tension but it's its overall effect that affects you the most. It's difficult to describe, really, but to say the picture is ominous is an understatement. Its only real flaw is the fact that some of its odd comedy, particularly in its earlier sequences, detracts ever-so-slightly from the sincerity of its narrative. Still, even this contributes to the story's decidedly off-kilter vibe. When it comes down to it, the thing is absolutely brilliant, a distinct and distinguished movie unlike most others of its kind. It gets under your skin and wriggles around for a long time. 8/10
