Twilight (Szurkulat) 1990 – Gyorgy Feher.

An uncommonly bleak, Bible black Hungarian thriller from 1990 that eerily seems to exist in a sinisterly primordial age all of its very own. A seasoned detective's search for a brutal serial child killer draws him inexorably into an obsessive manhunt which leads him ever deeper into a malign vortex of his very own increasingly tormented psyche. Twilight is a morbidly crepuscular, unhurried, almost wholly interior crime procedural, an existentialist nightmare which slowly envelops the spectator within a dense pall of creeping disquiet. An astonishing, absolutely unique iteration of a murder mystery, Gyorgy Feher's singular vision is strikingly visual, unsettling, yet never less than mesmerising. Utilizing his fluidic camera with consummate skill, the detective's expressly grim, psychologically devastating odyssey is illuminated in only the blackest of hues. An exquisite work of immaculately photographed doom, both manifestly human and utterly primal, breathtakingly beautiful and utterly profane. Films are actively voyeuristic, and if made especially skilfully, they momentarily turn us all into Peeping Toms, and some truly rarefied films, do the very opposite, they stare deeply into the viewer, pitilessly probing our viscera and brain flesh like a mortician; this is just such a paradigm shifting work. Feher's Twilight is quite unlike any crime film I can recall seeing, Jean Cocteau on tainted Ketamine, an unholy guttural shriek of despair condensed to the deathly smothering consistency of icy concrete.