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Babs is this oddly captivating descent into darkness, I’d say it’s more of an experience than a straightforward narrative. The pacing is languid, almost dreamlike, which really heightens the dread as we watch Detective Becky Rawlings spiral deeper into her alcohol-fueled nightmares. The practical effects, though perhaps not flashy, are gritty and raw, adding to the unsettling atmosphere. Performances are layered, with a haunting quality that lingers long after the credits roll. It’s the kind of film that sticks with you, exploring themes of despair and the human condition in an unconventional way.
Babs has been somewhat elusive in terms of format history; I’ve seen a handful of indie screenings and a couple of limited releases floating around. There's certainly some collector interest, though its scarcity means you won't find it on every shelf. The murky details about its production add an air of mystery, which makes it appealing for those who enjoy tracking down obscure gems.
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