Stoker

A forgotten hushed-up malignant propriety, proper and prim, dainty and exasperating, fratricidically plants himself within a bourgeois pasture, ingenious and precise, incorrigible yet enticing, seeking to cultivate that which he sees fit, to grow, applying a maniacal degree of reflexive fertilization to those he deems a threat, while cloistering the others within a creepy consanguine cluster.

Stoker's plot and narrative lack the depth of the films found within Chan-wook Park's Vengeance Trilogy, but its technical aspects, in terms of cinematography and sound especially, prominently display his brilliance, creating worlds within worlds, caverns and teapots and haunting ravished andantes, sustained sorrowful psychiatric sonorities, patient microscopic pristine insections, crawling and sprawling and mauling, within lurid infinite extratextual specifications.

Not that the script doesn't have its moments, with Nicole Kidman (Evelyn Stoker) delivering the most impassioned piece of seditious sentimental solemnity, it just doesn't match-up to Oldboy etc., which, if The Berlin File (directed by Seung-wan Ryoo) is compared to the original Die Hard, for instance, makes sense.

But seriously, give this guy the right script and he could create the most disorienting American psychological thriller ever made, perhaps encouraging a greater sub/conscious expansion in the process.

A film version of Chuck Palahniuk's Pygmy?

Something with werebears?

Cinematography by Chung-hoon Chung, original music by Clint Mansell.