Halfway through the second film someone in the row behind you will stop breathing properly, and you will hear it, because nobody in this building is looking at a phone. That is what a Wednesday in a revival house buys: an audience that came to be frightened together instead of alone on a couch with all the lights on.
Two Spanish filmmakers, six years apart, both convinced that the most frightening thing in a house is a mother who is certain. One is about a woman guarding her children from daylight. The other is about a woman who returns to the building that raised her and begins counting. Neither needs a drop of blood. Both were made by directors who understood that dread is really a question of how long you are willing to hold a shot before cutting.
Worth knowing the lineage: Guillermo del Toro produced the second picture, and its director later graduated to enormous disaster films — but this is the one where he learned how to make an audience wait.
Both screen on 35mm, house policy since 2014. First film 7:30, second at 9:45. 7165 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles.
Halfway through the second film someone in the row behind you will stop breathing properly, and you will hear it, because nobody in this building is looking at a phone. That is what a Wednesday in a revival house buys: an audience that came to be frightened together instead of alone on a couch with all the lights on.
Two Spanish filmmakers, six years apart, both convinced that the most frightening thing in a house is a mother who is certain. One is about a woman guarding her children from daylight. The other is about a woman who returns to the building that raised her and begins counting. Neither needs a drop of blood. Both were made by directors who understood that dread is really a question of how long you are willing to hold a shot before cutting.
Worth knowing the lineage: Guillermo del Toro produced the second picture, and its director later graduated to enormous disaster films — but this is the one where he learned how to make an audience wait.
Both screen on 35mm, house policy since 2014. First film 7:30, second at 9:45. 7165 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles.
Halfway through the second film someone in the row behind you will stop breathing properly, and you will hear it, because nobody in this building is looking at a phone. That is what a Wednesday in a revival house buys: an audience that came to be frightened together instead of alone on a couch with all the lights on.
Two Spanish filmmakers, six years apart, both convinced that the most frightening thing in a house is a mother who is certain. One is about a woman guarding her children from daylight. The other is about a woman who returns to the building that raised her and begins counting. Neither needs a drop of blood. Both were made by directors who understood that dread is really a question of how long you are willing to hold a shot before cutting.
Worth knowing the lineage: Guillermo del Toro produced the second picture, and its director later graduated to enormous disaster films — but this is the one where he learned how to make an audience wait.
Both screen on 35mm, house policy since 2014. First film 7:30, second at 9:45. 7165 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles.