Fantastic Fest Day 6: 'Destroyer' Offers Nicole Kidman The Role Of A Lifetime, 'May The Devil Take You' Is The 'Evil Dead' Cover We Need, And 'The Wind' Crafts A Feminist Horror Western

There's something familiar about Karyn Kusama's Destroyer, the sense that this film is unashamed of its genetic connection to classic cops-and-crooks films like Heat and The French Connection. But for every element that feels expected, elements that are baked into the genre and cannot be removed without altering the chemical formula altogether, Kusama injects something new and unexpected and quietly astounding. Yes, Destroyer is another "cop-on-the-edge chases down the bad guy who got away" movie, but let's not beat around the bush here: it is an outstanding "cop-on-the-edge chases down the bad guy who got away" movie.

At the center of it all is Nicole Kidman as Erin Bell, an LAPD detective seemingly comprised entirely of jangled nerved, vicious glances, and itchy trigger fingers. Much has been made of Kidman's physical transformation for the role – the hollow eyes, the sunken cheeks, the leathery skin – but this is no cry for Oscar and the layers of make-up don't feel like a stunt. The physicality matches the intensity of Kidman's work, a performance that is raw and frightening, broken yet powerful. The transformation becomes another tool in Kidman's arsenal, not the reason for the performance to exist. Bell is a woman who won't bend for anything, even as she looks like a stiff breeze will blow her over. In a career filled with memorable and brave performances, this may be the best Kidman has ever been.

Destroyer is straightforward enough until it isn't, following Bell as she stalks around Los Angeles, taking desperate, violent steps toward a bank robber (Toby Kebbell) who got away years earlier. The present day storyline takes a break every now and then as the past is offered up in bits and pieces: Bell's undercover operation alongside a fellow cop (Sebastian Stan), her relationship with the crooks to whom she gets a little too close, and the big job where everything went wrong. It's a structure that reward careful observation as we struggle to understand how the Bell in these flashbacks became the Bell we meet while on the present day warpath. And while this is Kidman's show, Destroyer lets her grapple with welcome actors like Bradley Whitford, Scoot McNairy, and Tatiana Maslany, each of whom hold their own against Kidman's monstrous, unforgettable performance.

Three years ago, Kusama emerged from an undeserved stint in "director's jail" with The Invitation, one of the straight-up best thrillers of the millennium. Destroyer is further evidence that this industry has done her wrong, that she can not just make movies as good as the boys, but she can make them better and fresher and with a nuance and style that is sorely lacking from the testosterone-laden realm of "cop movies." Destroyer is a terrific potboiler, but Kusama and screenwriters Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi keep a few aces up their sleeve, reveals that slide between the ribs like a knife. When the credits roll, you'll want to watch Destroyer again, now properly equipped for the journey ahead. I imagine it won't prove any less devastating.

The Wind belongs very much in a post-The Witch world. The comparisons between the two are many: they're both slow-burning, intimate horror tales with small casts set in isolated period settings that use supernatural horror to explore the dissolution of social norms. If we're on the cusp of an entire sub genre of like-minded period horror, we're in for a treat.

Director Emma Tammi's solo feature debut is a western about the dangers of not believing women, making it a wholly relevant film for 2018. It is also a western about prairie demons making life a living hell for two settler families, making it a wholly relevant film for just about any year. The former is embodied by the tremendous Caitlin Gerard, playing a lonely wife whose husband won't even acknowledge the fact that they've built their cabin in a place that is just inherently evil. The latter is embodied by a choking sense of dread that pervades the film, leading to scenes of quiet, inexplicable evil and shots that linger in the brain like something out of a bad dream.

The Wind's pacing proves to be a double-edged blade. The most chilling moments wouldn't be nearly as effective without that agonizing build-up, but the film never takes advantage of its eventual escalation. It's a slow movie until the credits roll and Tammi pulls back on the reins when you wish she'd break into a gallop. But the film's fractured timeline builds a mystery worth getting lost within, and Gerard, anchoring a film that goes for long stretches without spoken dialogue, is a wonderful tour guide through it all (particularly since the rest of the acting can be...iffy). In a year defined by both existential dread and women taking control of their own narratives, this is a horror western that can't help but feel essential.