Deep down in my gut, there’s a tiny submerged part of me that honestly thinks The Endless, that new joint by that Aaron Moorhead guy and that Justin Benson guy (reminder: they’re the guys who made Spring, one of the best horror movies of 2014), should get on my nerves. I sort of understand what that part of me’s saying; this is a thoroughly opaque movie that probably doesn’t make complete cohesive sense even after multiple viewings, but makes enough sense for us to make sense of what doesn’t make sense. (Does that make sense?)
Normally, that kind of thing irks me. The Endless, however, works for me, because Benson and Moorhead are so willing to surrender their film to the mysteries of their premise. You won’t mind its inscrutability. You’ll savor it instead. Come for the Lovecraftian horror, stay for the theme of fraught brotherhood, as I talk about in my review for Paste Magazine.
A Constant Visual Feast 