Tomaz (Alec Secăreanu) is a man of indeterminate origins who currently lives in a homeless shelter somewhere in London, and during the day works as a manual labourer, never staying under the employment for one person for too long, which suits him perfectly well. His exact roots are unknown, but he is haunted by memories to his past, where he was a soldier working for a rebel alliance, residing in a forest on the border, and tasked with defending the territory from invaders. He managed to escape, and while the situation at home has substantially improved, he refuses to go back. However, his relatively comfortable life as a nearly anonymous drifter comes to an end when his shelter is destroyed by fire. In his daze, he manages to find his way to a nearby convent, where Sister Claire (Imelda Staunton) offers him temporary sanctuary and reunites him with his few belongings that she managed to salvage when he arrived. Sensing the young man is in urgent need of help, the nun offers him a place to stay, taking Tomaz to the home of one of her parishioners, Magda (Carla Juri), a quiet young woman who spends her days taking caring of her invalid mother, who lives on the top floor of their quaint suburban home. Tomaz is initially reluctant to accept the offer to live here – however, Sister Claire insists that it isn’t an act of charity, but rather a chance for him to earn his place there, with the house rapidly falling apart, and being in dire need of some maintenance, which is exactly what Tomaz seems to be able to offer. Over the next few weeks, Tomaz settles into the house and tries to become closer to Magda, whose own strictly-guarded personality begins to erode as she comes to know him and understand who he is as a person. However, there’s a general sense of unease that pervades throughout the house, and Tomaz finds himself constantly on the edge, almost as if something is watching him – and there quite possibly may be, especially when it becomes clear that not everything in this house is what it seems.

Had I been told that Amulet was directed by David Cronenberg or David Lynch, there would be very little difficulty in believing that – a strange, twisted horror film that thrives on both its roots in traditions of the genre and its open subversion of the most sacrosanct traditions, this is the kind of film that seeks to haunt us more than it attempts to momentarily scare us. What makes this even more of a fascinating film is that it wasn’t the work of some established auteur, but the directorial debut of Romola Garai, who moves into the space of filmmaking after a few decades of commanding the screen in a range of films and television productions. From the outset, it’s important to note that this is one of the most audacious debuts I’ve seen in years, a film so unique and alluring, to the point of near-obsession, its nothing short of an achievement in carefully-calibrated terror that may be far more bewildering than mainstream fare, but in return manages to be substantially more interesting and creative, both in the message it conveys and the manner in which it executes some very impressive ideas. Garai makes a compelling case to be considered an essential new voice on the other side of the camera, with her work in Amulet being indicative of a vision that very few filmmakers, especially those moving from acting to directing, could achieve on their first attempt. A genre-bending work that combines terrifying horror, potent social commentary and a touch of dark comedy to the proceedings for good measure, Amulet functions as a multifaceted work that simply can’t be pinned down in any coherent way and exists more as an experience, a bundle of comprehensive but abstract ideas, rather than a simple horror film – and for that reason alone (as well as many others), its impossible to not regard this film as something of a masterwork, particularly in terms of its ability to handle both challenging subject matter and deceptively dark filmmaking technique, to create something thoroughly unforgettable.

On a purely creative level, Garai establishes herself as a fascinating figure in contemporary filmmaking. Taking the most fundamental aspects of the craft into account, we can see how she effectively uses every possible resource to create something special. Creatively, Amulet is something of a marvel – the director creates a certain mood through careful use of both the visual and aural aspects of the medium to set a tone that allows us to settle into this story, while slowly disrupting the comfort we inherently start to grow suspicious of in those first few scenes – a brief dancing scene in a forest, a warm exchange with a kind-hearted nun, a sojourn into a local bar – all of it functions as a way for Garai to situate this story in a recognizable world, which she then gradually dismantles for the sake of subverting expectations. The cinematographer of the film, Laura Bellingham, works with Garai to create a certain aesthetic that seems familiar, but always keeps us at a distance – the compositions throughout Amulet are as necessary to the terror as anything narrative. There’s not a single wasted moment in this film, and even those scenes that may appear to be either unsettling for the sake of scaring us, or entirely disposable, make sense in the context of where this film is heading. Furthermore, Garai also uses her actors particularly well, casting a very small group of performers to lend their talents to this bizarre film and bring it to life, since Amulet is undeniably impenetrable in terms of the premise, so it often falls to the actors to help the distinct visual appearance and stark narrative framework converge in an effective, but not convoluted, way. Alec Secăreanu is a tremendously talented young actor, and taking on the part of Tomaz, a seemingly good-natured everyman who actually harbours some terrifying secrets, he is given the chance to play a very peculiar character that plays on his genial charms, with the film often using them against the character in a very interesting way. Carla Juri is just as enigmatic in the part of Magda as she needs to be, functioning as a mysterious young woman who we can never quite understand, but who we desperately try to decode. Finally, Imelda Staunton has a relatively small role in the film but makes such an impression as one of the most sinister characters committed to film in the past few years. Purely in terms of the traditional aspects of the genre, Amulet is very successful – but taken on their own, none of these come close to encapsulating the wildly inventive world Garai has created with this film.

Amulet, for lack of a better term, is a film about secrets. This isn’t revolutionary to the horror genre, with countless films focusing on the idea of well-meaning protagonists finding themselves in difficult situations, possibly just the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, victims to a faction of the world they would have never thought they’d find themselves becoming a part of. Add in some supernatural elements, and you have a genre built on the idea of secrecy and how eroding it can be, both physically and mentally. Amulet uses these loose guidelines in a wonderfully creative way, with Garai putting together a terrifying work that calibrates on one of the most fundamental aspects of a successful horror – the fear of the unknown. This mostly manifests through the premise, which is inarguably nothing particularly special at first glance – a young drifter finds himself a visitor in a mysterious house, where nothing is quite what it seems. This is a film we’ve all seen at some point, and for two-third of Amulet, Garai doesn’t seem to be doing anything particularly revolutionary – but this is solely on a conceptual level since from the very first frame of the film, there is a sense of foreboding danger that very few mainstream horror films manage to evoke. Unlike other films in the genre, Amulet doesn’t start as a charming, lightweight drama that rapidly descends into terror – rather, it nestles us into this disconcerting world from the beginning, and gradually submerges us, which is done so effectively, by the time we’re fully engrossed by the film, it’s much too late for us to turn back. The best kind of horror film is the one that fully captivates us, to the point where the idea of being terrified for fun is completely abandoned, and any hope of amusement coming from cheap jump-scares or predictable horror film tropes are entirely dismissed in favour of something far more sinister, and substantially more worthwhile than nearly any other recent horror film that takes a more traditional approach, which Amulet often seems to be outright contradicting.

Garai relishes in the knowledge that she’s putting the audience through something of a horrific ordeal, but a fundamentally rewarding one, especially for those who manage to stay with the film and endure its paced, ponderous approach for the first two acts, which don’t only serve to establish a certain tone, but also subconsciously prepares us for the cataclysm that is about to come. The first two acts of Amulet are excellent in setting the tone, but they’re unremarkable in terms of focusing on a common story of a man venturing into unknown territory and being confronted with sinister secrets. However, the final act of this film is where it truly comes into its own, and takes the first hour, which was intentionally more languid and sedate, and turns it around entirely, creating one of the most terrifying climaxes I’ve ever seen for a horror film. The story descends into territory that not even the most deranged filmmakers went to often – and considering this was not random, but actually had a purpose in terms of wider social commentary, it makes perfect sense. Ultimately, Amulet is one of the most unexpectedly timely works of filmmaking of the past few years, tackling one of the most pressing issues of our time, that of sexual harassment. A horror film created as a direct response to the MeToo movement was a risky choice, but it paid off incredibly well, as the final product is one of the most haunting works of commentary of the past decade. Garai, who has been quite vocal about her own experiences with the toxic behaviour of certain powerful executives, does not hold back with Amulet – the attempts to eviscerate the entire institution that keeps these issues far from public discourse, and through engaging with these fundamental ideas through the backhanded method of a truly demented horror film, she manages to make an even more powerful statement. This film pulsates with vitriolic anger that can be sensed from the first moment, gradually increasing until it reaches the point of eruption, from which point there isn’t any possible escape.

Whether you’re left horrified or utterly speechless, there’s very little doubt that what Romola Garai did with Amulet was nothing short of an astounding achievement. The fact that such a dark and twisted horror film, which doesn’t only aim to terrify, but also make a profound statement on issues that extend beyond the confines of filmmaking. It takes a lot of work to make a film this deranged, but also one that doesn’t become derailed by the force of its own audacity. Garai exercises the right balance between the subversive message and the bold execution of it – over-the-top without being too excessive, and truly frightening in the best possible way, Amulet is an unforgettable experience that leaves the viewer feeling a range of emotions – absolute shock, bewilderment and complete exasperation, having witnessed one of the most wildly inventive horror films of the current era. It’s tricky to suggest this film is going to set off a range of imitators that blend socially-conscious stories with unrestrained horror (even if we have several films that do take a similar approach that predate this one), but it’ll be very surprising if Amulet doesn’t start a movement that inspires future filmmakers to not avoid genre filmmaking, proving that even if you have a very serious message, there’s absolutely nothing stopping one from working within a particular genre. Garai has already made it very clear that she’s an incredibly gifted actress, so for this film to come around and prove her to be a vital voice behind the camera is one of the year’s most exquisite surprises – and without any doubt, this film is one of the most surprisingly great directorial debuts of recent years. Bold, ambitious and entirely unique, Amulet is simply incredible, and well-worth seeking out and giving a chance – even if it may appear peculiar at first, the story takes you to some very unexpected places, which is an experience like no other.