Once a friend was complaining about his neck hurting, so I reached over and jerked his head to the side without even thinking about what I was doing, which obviously could've ended up being, you know, murder or whatever. Thankfully it was not! Still... he was not happy about that. I suppose I understand. Similarly Krisha is neck-snap of a motion-picture - not quite debilitating, but a hard right shock to the system all the same.
On the one side you've got a whopper of an on-edge performance from director Trey Shults' aunt and actress Krisha Fairchild - unfamiliar as we are with the contours of her gorgeous, forbidding face we're never sure how much of the crazy bubbling under that surface to believe is real or not - and on the other side you've got Shults' aggressively invasive camerawork, carried along, thrust after thrust, by Brian McOmber's cacophonic score... well from every angle you're unnerved, and awesomely so. It's not often you feel quite so alive feeling so uncomfortable. It takes effort!
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