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A horrific mood piece by actress/director Amy Seimetz.  SHE DIES TOMORROW, Seimetz’s second attempt at feature filmmaking, was financed with the money she made from appearing in 2019’s PET SEMATERY, and can be viewed as the polar opposite of that film, being a resolutely small scale arthouse horror product that relies on suggestion and ambiguity.

This film appeared in August 2020, in the midst of an off-screen drama between Seimetz and her ex Shane Carruth, who directed her in UPSTREAM COLOR and helped out with her feature filmmaking debut SUN DON’T SHINE (2012).  This explains the overwrought praise SHE DIES TOMORROW has received from pundits eager to show their support for Seimetz, which has had the unfortunate effect of creating vastly outsized expectations for a film that, like its predecessor, is quite modest in ambition and execution—it is small film in every sense of the word, albeit one that (for reasons that should quickly become apparent) is particularly apt to the covid age.

Headlining is SUN DON’T SHINE’S lead Kate Lyn Sheil.  She once again proves herself a strong performer, anchoring the proceedings quite effectively as Amy, a young woman haunted by the belief that she’s not long for this world.  This leads to a lot of horrific visions (scored by Mozart’s “Requiem”) as her apprehensions spread to her friend Jane, who takes to believing that she’s going to die tomorrow—and spreads that fear to the denizens of an obnoxious party she attends.  Further infectees include the unlucky doctor Jane consults about her anxieties and Amy’s boyfriend–who’s played by another SUN DON’T SHINE alum, Kentucker Audley (also look for appearances by Seimetz’s higher profile movie pals Kate Adams, Josh Lucas, Michelle Rodriguez and Adam Wingard).

As she did on SUN DON’T SHINE (and the first two seasons of the Starz! series THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE), Seimetz proves herself an uncommonly observant filmmaker.  Her meticulousness is evident in the varying sound levels, with the dialogue often played at a noticeably low volume and the music and ambient noise turned up.  Furthering the effect is the fact that most of the dialogue is spoken in murmurs a la the films of the “mumblecore” indie film movement in which Seimetz got her start.  Dialogue is not a main (or even partial) concern, with Seimetz’s overriding thrust being the atmosphere of anxiety and desolation.

Not all of her artistic choices pay off (I wasn’t too impressed with the multi-hued lights flashed on actors’ faces to indicate their inner turmoil), but for the most part Seimetz succeeds in her aims.  The problem is those aims are too modest and esoteric to make for a fully satisfying film.

 

Vital Statistics

SHE DIES TOMORROW
Rustic Films/Neon

Director: Amy Seimetz
Producers: Amy Seimetz, David Lawson, Jr., Aaron Moorhead, Justin Benson
Screenplay: Amy Seimetz
Cinematography: Jay Keitel
Editing: Kate Brokaw
Cast: Kate Lyn Sheil, Jane Adams, Kentucker Audley, Katie Aselton, Chris Messina, Tunde Adebimpe, Jennifer Kim, Olivia Taylor Dudley, Josh Lucas, Michelle Rodriguez, Adam Wingard, Madison Calderon