The pacing, the decor, the LPs on the endlessly running old turntable (cliché alert), and especially the spooky
nature of the home invasion, all belong to an era when Stephen King and Brian De Palma ruled and movies such as Carrie, The Omen, Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Jaws defined the horror genre.
Hardly the mere
home invasion thriller it's been marketed as, this is an angry film for an angry time, a heavy, at times lumbering, allegorical work about woman and man,
nature and God, painstakingly made from a script the writer - director claims he dashed off in five days; its unrefined, somewhat all - purpose symbolism is evidence
of an almost demonic process, and its confusions, self - lacerations, and silliness would be less welcome if Aronofsky hadn't in the process mounted the most technically impressive filmmaking
of his career.