I really am not sure where to begin with Sun Choke, Ben Cresciman's frustrating yet haunting independent, psychological horror/thriller.

It begs me to dismiss it as incoherent, pretentious, poorly made, arty drivel but it also demands that I delve deeper, be won over, embrace its ambiguity and relish in its striking images, strong, brave performances and genuinely creepy and unnerving ideas.

It both, in turn, wants me to not understand it, to thumb its nose at me and dance about rejoicing in its own, impenetrable cleverness, slapping its back at stumping and perplexing the cynical, jaded and curmudgeonly film critic in me and it wants to impress me, freak me out, bathe in its acting, light and silence.

Basically it all comes down to the camera work. Sometimes the camera work is lazy, shaky, too close up, shuddering all over the place (like the camera man wants to pee) and other times it's purposeful, still, composed, beautiful and creative.

I am of the school where, if the whole film was shot in that second style, it would be much closer to a masterpiece than it is and whoever is telling or teaching people that shaky camera work during dialogue scenes somehow heightens the tension and drama, should be locked in a wardrobe with Simon Cowell and fed nothing but kale because, guess what, it doesn't.