Eerie, Atmospheric Style that Sticks with You Long after the Movie Ends

Rating: 9/10 (5 November 2019)

Some movies ease into their stories the way you might ease into a warm bath. Others cannonball into a swimming pool. "It Follows" takes the latter route.
During the opening credits, you hear the sound of air being sucked in, like you're taking a long deep breath through pursed lips. Suddenly the sound ceases and the screen hard cuts to a serene tree-lined suburban street, lingers there for a moment, then slowly pans to an ordinary-looking house. It's a calming scene. For about 10 seconds.
Then a young woman crashes out the front door and bolts down the block in her high heels, as thundering music floods your ears. She's clearly running from something, but we can't see what it is (listen closely and you can hear the front door open and close after her even though we don't see anyone come outside). She loops back to her driveway, hops in her car, and zips down the road. Next, we see her at a beach, trembling in the sand with the headlights facing her. She calls her dad and tells him she's sorry and that she loves him. She senses her time is nearly up.
In the morning, we see her disfigured body lying on the beach with her legs bent in disturbing directions. Woah. That's when I was hooked.
Director David Robert Mitchell cleverly plays off the trope that sex-having horror film characters must die. The invisible something that chased the girl in the opening scene is later revealed to be a curse that is passed from one person to another through sex. Once you have sex with the "infected" person, the monster becomes visible to you (and remains visible even after you pass it on). It can take the form of anyone - a stranger or someone you know. Then it follows.
Mitchell pays homage to horror classic "Halloween" with scenic wide shots and a carefully developed eerie atmosphere. But make no mistake: this is a wholly original film. The music establishes the tone of ill ease throughout the film. Viewers are never made comfortable at any point because we are constantly reminded about looming doom. Mitchell sprinkles shots of a person slowly approaching from a distance, barely in focus. Is that the monster? We're never sure. We never feel safe. It's the exact horror facing each of the "infected" characters - they never feel safe.
Mitchell manages to scare us without turning to the comfortable, cliched "boo" scares that populate so many lame horror movies today. Aside from one or two effective jump scares, the film relies on an unrelenting buildup dread to satisfy its horror quota. It's a much more impactful approach than jump scares, which last mere seconds. The scares in this movie stick with you.
One of my favorite filmmaking choices in the movie is that when the protagonist, Jay (played with vulnerability and humanity by Maika Monroe) learns about the monster, she doesn't hide her situation. She convinces her friends to help her. Instead of separating the characters and letting them get picked off by the monster, Mitchell opts to show how they come together to protect their friend.
If the monster is meant to represent an STD or sexual assault and the shame that follows, then the message is clear: talk to your friends about it. Let them help you, because this is not something you want to face alone.