The ocean is a vast, mysterious dominion that feels otherworldly in its depths. Its foreign nature often invokes primal fears, and director Lucile Hadžihalilović juxtaposes that precise alien fascination with the sea against the transformative process of puberty in her French follow-up to her previous film, Innocence.  For 10-year-old Nicolas, his entire world is thrown upside-down when a casual swim in a tide pool leads to the discovery of a dead boy with a red starfish on his belly. The discovery causes young Nicolas to question his entire existence, including whether or not his mother is actually his mother.  Nicolas’ journey becomes a surreal, psychological nightmare.

This is very much a body horror film, but not in the way that you’d expect.

Hadžihalilović’s film emulates its seaside setting well; the calm surface of the seaside village and its inhabitants belies just how strange and mysterious things are just below the surface.  What begins as seemingly normal and quaint gives way to an eerie unease that gradually builds the more Nicolas questions his surroundings.  There are no men on this island, just women, all wearing neutral colored dresses over their waxy skin and their hair tied back. Each woman cares for her own sickly boy the same age as Nicolas. They feed the boys strange slop that may or may not contain worms, and they dose their sons with medicine before bed each night. The more Nicolas observes his mother and the women, the more bizarre his reality becomes.

This is very much a body horror film, but not in the way that you’d expect.  It’s not the gross-out degeneration of the human body that the sub-genre instantly invokes, but a far subtler biological and psychological approach. The village’s hospital is residence to strange medical practices, and those squeamish of large hypodermic needles and visceral surgical procedures will find themselves extremely uncomfortable in many scenes. Even these scenes aren’t quite as startling as a late climatic sequence so unexpectedly revolting.

Hadžihalilović weaves a dreamlike narrative scarce on dialogue and heavy on atmosphere, style, and visual clues for the viewer to unlock about her surreal world. It’s a quiet, slow build that instills a sense of foreboding yet is also unyielding in offering simple answers.  It’s not an easy film to interpret, aside from its metaphors for childbirth and puberty.  The viewer is dropped into the thick of this bizarre reality without a guide, and it’s up to the viewer to draw their own conclusions. It’s the type of film that warrants multiple viewings for missed clues, and yet you’d be forgiven for still being unsure as to what just unfolded. In other words, this film does not wrap up its mysteries in a tidy bow and instills far more questions than it answers.

 This is a thought-provoking, stunning film worth watching; it’s haunting imagery will linger as you continue to piece together clues long after the end credits roll.

For a film so reliant on its sensory journey it succeeds in measures. Director of Photography Manu Dacosse deserves credit for filming the most exquisite underwater sequences in recent memory.  It’s a perfect contrast for the neutral palette of the rigid seaside village.  There’s nothing superfluous to the color choices in the film, and the color red plays an interesting significance.

Young Nicolas’ story unfolds like a nightmare personified.  It’s a haunting, uneasy film that keeps you in its grip as you desperately grasp for any clues as to what’s transpiring. It’s quiet and confusing, yet beautiful and horrific. It’s a challenging film that refuses to offer any easy answers and as such won’t be for everyone.  This is a thought-provoking, stunning film worth watching; it’s haunting imagery will linger as you continue to piece together clues long after the end credits roll.

Evolution will open in theaters and on VOD on November 25, 2016.evolution-poster