You don’t have to understand a movie to like it. I’ve been curious about Stoker for a while, but it leaving Netflix soon gave me the necessary urgency to finally watch it.
Stoker is one of those films in which the plot is almost a side project: it’s the actors and their surroundings that lift ‘mysterious man that influences bereaved family’ from it’s Lifetime/Hallmark risk.
It’s a film like an art piece: no clear hints on what to feel or what you should think about it. Is the stranger a monster or just evil, is India how she is because of her family or is her mother who she is because of India? Even after clues and climaxes there are still traces of insecurity: did all this really happen like this/that?
It leaves you with a slightly uncomfortable thrill, packaged in morbid prettiness.
Stoker, Fox Searchlight Pictures 2013