Robert Eggers' THE LIGHTHOUSE (2019)

If ever did a film need black and white
T'were this'un, as the light and shadows play
Across these faces, crazed and pure and right
Out of a William Blake book, I might say
(Check out those mad tableaus!), or, then again
From Goya. How did Jaren Blaschke not
Receive a shelf-full of awards, but then
I've not yet seen what beat him. Still, you've got
To hand it to him; nothing's looked like this
Since Hameister, perhaps. And yes, the cast
Chewed up the scene'ry well. I'd be amiss
To not shout out the gull unit, too. 'Vast!
I could go on and on about this one,
It's tense and crazy and it's lots of fun.

Joseph H. Lewis' MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS (1945)

So tight and closely woven is this plot,
Which we, the viewers, know of all along,
That just an hour wraps it on the dot.
Such Gothic trappings seem a little wrong
When played out in a proto-noir disguise --
A lovely woman, kidnapped on a ruse,
Is gaslighted and can't enjoy the prize
Of Cornish seascapes many, sure, would choose
To see each morning from the windowsill
Of one's great sumptuous bedroom. Watch her stress!
Her mocked suspicions! Held against her will
And called another name! I must confess
The expositions of the evil plan
Got silly, but I still might be a fan.

Thomas Russell's MR. DUNGBEETLE (2005)

No geese fly over any cuckoos' nests;
Disciples of a strange and kindly god,
The Khepri, who persuades them it is best
To heal themselves in wilderness. Applaud,
As each is given space and time to tilt
At his own windmills. Ev'ry line they say
Has meaning strange and lovely as they build
A world that looks like ours, but better. They
Are fun to watch e'en as they make one cry
At kindness and at courage. This unknown
But perfect cast will have you asking why
Divergence bears such stigma. We're alone
Each in our heads, but Thomas Russell sees
Us all. Let's sit together 'neath the trees.