As tediously pretentious, and unqualified to be so, as it gets. A woman inherits a empty schoolhouse from a grandmother she’s never met. She wanders around, giving a pretentious voiceover. She plays the “moonlight sonata” for five long minutes, and nothing else happens during that time, while an out-of-focus ghostly figure stands behind her. She wanders around the grounds. She hears a noise upstairs, grabs a knife, and takes, I shit you not, what feels like 5 minutes to ascend the stairs to the next floor. Hands reach out of the darkness and cover her mouth as she screams, then we suddenly cut to a camera pointed upwards towards the front facade of the building that slowly moves closer, then further away, then closer, then further away again, with the scene fading in and out and in again, over and over, because, it’s artistic, I suppose, before we then see her again, digging through old trunks, apparently totally fine, no clue what the hands were. Over an hour into the movie, she intones the first line of actual dialogue: she flatly says, “I feel… I am not alone… in the house… and yet… I am…. alone… in the house…” and then stares for several minutes, occasionally taking a sip from a bottle in as close as this movie gets to excitement. Then we’re treated to extreme close ups of her squeezing blood blisters and goo-covered skin growths. Eventually, a weird creature makes an appearance and gives her an orgasm, but by then it’s much too late. Then, they cut to her staring at the camera with an intense expression on her face and tinkling random notes on the piano, for five minutes. Then another scene of her just staring for several minutes. Somebody should be punished for making this movie.