A Desert

A Desert should be best celebrated as a Choose Your Own Adventure film for sickos. It has so many dynamic moving parts that are all meticulously and soulfully orchestrated.

sense of unpinnable but pervasive evil is something the film would like to communicate, but lacks the stylistic finesse to achieve. The narrative ultimately vanishes down a rabbit’s hole.

Rather than trying to understand exactly what it means, you’re better off appreciating it like one of Alex’s photos. Just like an abandoned roadside diner becoming overrun by fungi and rodent’s nests, sometimes the emptiness is the point.

There’s no handholding or easy answers in this genre-bender, but its richly textured world and morally complex characters ensure an unpredictable voyage worth taking.

A nightmare that burrows under one’s skin like a virus (or a curse), and it heralds its creator as a bracing new genre-filmmaking voice.

Mix of neo-noir and horror.

A Desert is a sun-drenched, visually appealing but brutal spin on modern neo-noir, drawing on elements of urban myth, fears of the unknown and fading optimism, and weaving these into a sickly, secretive story.

While A Desert may not be for everyone, as its deliberately slow pace and abstract narrative require patience, it rewards those willing to surrender to it. It’s a film where you can kick back, relax and completely succumb to the story.

A Desert is a hauntingly bleak neo-noir thriller, taking the audience on a strange journey into the darker side of human nature.

Memorable visuals and slick editing can’t mask the deeper issues with A Desert — namely, the flimsy narrative and glacial pacing.