Sator Review

Those of you cast under Hagazussa’s spell and blown away by The Wind, prepare yourselves for Jordan Graham’s Sator. Think Krisha meets The Blair Witch with some “gang-gang supernatural cultishness” stirred in. Graham writes, edits, gaffs, scores, produces – he does everything short of acting, no exaggeration. When you nurture artistry so personal, it’s hard to let control go. As Netflix Originals have proven, sometimes boundless auteurism grants filmmakers too much power. Creators cannot separate themselves from their art, killing no darlings, but that’s not an issue here. Slow as sap dripping from a maple tap, maximum fuck-you-up-edness as only embittered family dysfunction can permit.

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