And what a journey it is. Bleed With Me is very much a slow burn. So much so that mainstream audiences, notorious for shunning arthouse horror films, will be put off by its gradual build-up of psychological horror and lack of cheap jumpscares. More reminiscent of Sophia Takal’s Always Shine and Alex Ross Perry’s Queen of Earth, themselves deep meditations on female friendship and the toxicity of co-dependent relationships, than mainstream horror fare, Bleed With Me is more fascinated by the horror of humanity than it is by the horror of the unknown. Not to say that it doesn’t have its share of disturbing imagery and intense frights. Moses’ direction is assured in its technique, confident in its methods. She crafts a relentlessly unnerving and powerfully moving tale of two women trying to force their own ideas and preconceived notions of friendship onto one another instead of accepting each other for who they truly are. The film’s cold winter setting also adds to its tense, gloomy mood, heightening the levels of isolation and alienation experienced by its characters. The film’s middle stretch – a series of repetitive dream sequences that cast a sinister shadow on the nature of Rowan and Emily’s friendship – may come off as monotonous and grating, especially towards the latter half, but the film’s climax – part gratifying, part heartbreaking but wholly enthralling – more than makes up for it.