Most critics come away unsettled, and most mean it as praise. The admiration clusters on the look of the film: the endless fluorescent-yellow corridors, the oppressive production design and lighting, and the way it sits in dread rather than reaching for conventional scares. Several reviews are struck that a 20-year-old first-time director handles all this with such control, and The Guardian also singles out Chiwetel Ejiofor and Renate Reinsve. The reservations cluster on length. The doubters grant that the atmosphere works in stretches but argue that an idea built for short online videos strains under a full feature: The New York Times finds over-explanation breaks the spell, Vulture calls the characters thin and the structure inept, and Den of Geek says it runs in circles. The spread is wide, from outright admiration to a shrug. Nobody disputes that the images are eerie. The argument is over whether eerie is enough to carry a whole film.
The critic calls the film an icily brilliant and genuinely disturbing conceptual horror debut that examines memory, reality and fear. They single out the barnstormingly good performances by Chiwetel Ejiofor and Renate Reinsve along with the amazing production design and oppressive yellowish lighting.
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