At its best, Xan Cassavetes' narrative debut Kiss of the Damned mines the more frigid waters of Eurohorror for stately atmosphere and erotic longing. At its worst, its longueurs have no real charge underneath them to make that atmosphere last, nor can it reconcile its careful composition with the sloppier handheld movements that attempt to juice up the action but come off as pretentious collage. You can only cut away to an arterial spurt so many times before it starts to get wearisome.
My full review is up now at Spectrum Culture.
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