Less a horror film about the bogeyman than a scary, psychological character study about what creates it. Intruders is so lyrical in both its stunning use of montage and the carefully rendered metaphor of fear and loss that it's like a tone poem, akin to the work of Guillermo del Toro. As an evaluation of what lies and truths one chooses to tell their kids, it's as insightful as it's haunting. A very underrated film.
While Act I scares fail due to editorial limits, Fresnadillo's strengths are in his narrative suggestions: alternative and private religions that find no formal artistic expression overtake one's imagination, the horrors of which become passed as familial myth. Despite Fresnadillo's ineffective drama, storytelling as healing conclusion is an fascinating re-affirmation for the necessity of cinematic storytelling.
Reminded me in some ways of The Tall Man, a too-clever for its own good experiment by someone who was clearly a fan of the genre, with a few individual scenes that were particularly effective, but a whole that doesn't quite coalesce on the screen in the way it must have in its writer-director's head.
Not bad but not very good either. Owen is fine as is some of the other actors. Unfortunately van Outen is completely wasted as the clueless mother. The twist at the end was ok but the soppy ending felt way to sweet for my taste. Good for a rainy sunday night if you like your scares light and easy.
The first 5 minutes are genuinely absorbing, despite some CGI that looks lifted right out of 1996's "The Frighteners," with a dark and dream-like mood similar to survival-horror video games like "Silent Hill." Then Clive Owen enters the picture and it all goes downhill. Clive tries his best but the screenplay forces a hodgepodge of inane ideas that feel cribbed from the M. Night Shyamalan playbook.
Starts out intriguingly enough but by the third act, this film is just limping toward the finish line before simply passing out in the climax. Like too many horror movies, it tries to explain everything but only succeeds in causing further confusion. Its worst sin: A bland, uninteresting "monster". At least Clive Owen is giving his all but, alas, he cannot save this sinking ship of a movie.
Fresnadillo is a filmmaker who is truly borderless. His films are perfect representations of the planet as melting pot of language, colors, origins, and though they have specific settings, they could be anywhere and are fascinating in that he refuses to treat one culture as inherently different from another. The film isn't a masterpiece, but his movies will always be more interesting than most genre films.