Make Up (2020)

Make Up is the kind of debut that announces a filmmaker with a real eye and an even sharper instinct for unease, turning a quiet seaside holiday park into a place where every corridor and reflection feels charged. Claire Oakley directs with stylish restraint, letting the atmosphere do the heavy lifting until the tension becomes almost tactile, and Molly Windsor anchors it all with a performance that’s both grounded and quietly mesmerizing. It plays less like a conventional thriller and more like a psychological drift into obsession, where mood, image, and feeling matter as much as answers. If you want tidy explanations and big plot fireworks, this may frustrate you—but if you like cinema that hypnotizes, unsettles, and lingers, it’s absolutely worth the trip.

Make Up is clearly aiming for a slow-burn, mood-first psychological drama about isolation, desire, and the way a small discovery can crack open a bigger identity crisis. The problem is it often confuses “minimalist” with “empty,” leaning so hard on atmosphere and unease that the plot and character development can feel thin, even frustratingly vague. If you need a thriller with clear stakes, momentum, and a satisfying payoff, this may feel dull and rushed by the time it decides to end. That said, the setting and sound design do create a tense, eerie bubble, and if you enjoy films that work more like a vibe piece than a story, you might get more out of it than most.