Reseñas de la crítica

The mix of self-consciously ragged visuals and ephemerally doomy vibes is potent stuff, and, paradoxically, the cosmic scope of the horror hits home precisely because of Aronofsky's restraint in ever actually visualizing it. In this way, the movie's low budget becomes the most powerful tool in Aronofsky's arsenal: it allows him to rely primarily on the power of suggestion.

Brilliant, surreal, and emotionally draining, this first feature from American Film Institute grad Aronofsky recalls such low-budget sci-fi epics as Tetsuo: The Iron Man and more traditional paranoiac suspense films (Adrian Lyne's Jacob's Ladder in particular, but also Polanski's Rosemary's Baby) and yet manages to be a wholly original animal.

Clever and creepy as hell, its beat is number magic--the point at which theoretical mathematical calculations become mystical numerology and the secrets of the universe appear ready to unfold in binary code--and its power lies both in Aronofsky's evocation of tightly wound paranoia and in his flawless dovetailing of personal obsession and cultural anxieties.

At once ingeniously cerebral, playfully twisted, and maniacally headlong.