West Coast Premiere
Bloodied and bruised, Chilean cab driver Luz stumbles into an almost empty police station on a dark and stormy night. Elsewhere, her childhood friend Nora seduces psychologist Dr. Rossini, plying him with alcohol while casting a mysterious yet charismatic spell. By the time the doctor is ushered into the police station, it’s obvious there’s more to him than meets the eye.
As Luz is repeatedly forced to rehash the events leading up to her arrival at the station, it becomes clear that something truly sinister is afoot, with life and death implications hanging in the balance. To say more would spoil this absolute gem.
At a svelte 70 minutes, LUZ manages a pace that’s simultaneously languid and fluid, where surrealism and atmosphere abound. As in dreams, it’s never really clear what has happened or why, or whether the conventional rules that govern perception and objectivity apply: and it doesn’t matter.
First time feature writer/director Tilman Singer crafts a revelatory experimental shocker, with a dual 70s arthouse and horror sensibility that transcends homage and deserves a place alongside the greats it evokes: think Fulci by way of Zulawski.
Shot on luscious 16mm Scope, LUZ lights up the big screen fantastically, while Simon Waskow’s heady synth score is an atmospheric epic unto itself. This is arthouse horror at its finest.
Director: Tilman Singer
Egyptian Theatre: Shudder Screen