The Mammals | Devils Don't Forget

Alright, we're going to assume you've already seen The Revenants. Because that's your top priority, right? Now do yourself a favor and go see Devils Don't Forget. It's creepy, it's unsettling, it's a real good time.

Everything works toward creating the mood. That space, in that building, under that train line. Even though you're going up four floors in an old school cage elevator, you feel like you're falling down, into the rabbit hole, into a half-remembered fever dream. You feel as if you're stumbling through the rainy streets, shadowy basements, dingy speak-easies of any given detective story. Or all of them. Or the Platonic ideal of one.

There's no beginning or end to the story, it just sort of hangs there in space and time. You clutch desperately for some sort of mooring, for something to make SENSE. But it's not there -- you just float away in the same dark water as the amnesiac protagonist. No names, no facts; just grimly flailing and churning, trying not to get killed.

It looks awesome, sounds awesome, is performed awesomely. Mr. Morlock is really picking up on what The Mammals are laying down.