"...Eventually I realized that I was in a kind of hell." As far as style exercises go, I thought most of it really worked. Simple/archaic techniques (tinting, high-key lights, forced perspective) used expressively if not at all diligently. But this has that spark of an idea that could only work in these confines, a low-budget short that works best as a low-budget short. Clearly, body horror interests the Cronenbrood.
Cannes #2019 No.4: Brandon Cronenberg, the honorable son of the grotesque anal auteur, steps from sickeningly sophisticated whiteness into maddeningly experimental iridescence. Good news; it's a nice transition. Neon nightmare bursts like a schizophrenic bloom in the dizzy look of Deragh Campbell (she is a wunderkind of modern arthouse cinema). I hope he makes a new feature preserving this sensibility of insanity.