Netflix: Lake Mungo
is basically what you'd get if documentarian Errol Morris
shot a horror film: beautiful, well-paced, eerie, evolving complexity that is deeply human, with a single good (well-earned) cat scare. Most horror films are plot-driven, and thus--between running and screaming--ironically can offer only a short-story's worth of narrative. By focusing on character, Lake Mungo
manages to explore novelistic complexity while hewing to the standard 87-minute horror-film format. Really well done.
I love horror, but am not so into gore, body-horror (I'm looking at you, Human Centipede
, District 9
!), or torture-porn (which, in and of itself, I find simultaneously boring and ethically troubling). Lake Mongo
is uncanny and creepy, with no gratuitous gore, and no need to parade a deep, casual (and tiresome) contempt for all of creation--especially human dignity--that's somehow becoming the artistic norm.
(See Mojo's recommendation of Lake Muno over here