She Dies Tomorrow

Writer-director Amy Seimetz's poetic, terrifying movie explores an existential crisis without getting too intellectual, using dreamy sounds and visuals to yield emotion, pain, and clarity. Coming close to the feel of an experimental movie, She Dies Tomorrow never explains whether the movie's catalyst -- the characters' absolute belief that they're going to die tomorrow -- is real or supernatural or ... anything. It's unexplained, and it isn't the point. The point, of course, is that everybody (and everything) dies, but what should we do with the time we have? Some tie up loose ends, some try to be with family, and some try new things.

But even more poignant questions come up, such as what to wear and what to leave behind. Amy puts on her fanciest, flashiest dress, while Jane wears a pair of pajamas. Amy visits a tanner to find out how she can be made into a coat. Director Seimetz -- who's also an actor in movies like The Sacrament and Pet Sematary -- uses these touches and things like colored flashes (red, blue, and green), Jane's photographic artwork (pictures of blood under a microscope, as well as disturbingly artful blood smears), and Mozart's "Requiem" played many, many times, to conjure up an almost psychedelic feel. She Dies Tomorrow offers the idea that there are no wrong answers here, even when Amy asserts: "I'm OK. I'm not OK."