Review for ‘‘At A Distance (7th Sirkle)’’ by Ty Brueilly

7eventh 7irkle, the eleventh installment of Ty Brueilly’s Shucks cinematic world, isn’t merely a film but a feverish, infernal free fall inspired by Canto XIII of Dante’s Inferno, where punishment becomes poetry and terror turns into strangely seductive ritual.

From the first flickering frame, Brueilly makes it clear: this isn’t a safe viewing experience. It’s an initiation. Viewers are transported into a symbolic landscape where image and sound collide like tectonic plates. Shadowy figures move through cavernous spaces, their costumes oscillating between myth and nightmare, while an experimental score pounds like a heartbeat lost in the dark. This isn’t horror in the traditional sense. It’s a kind of alchemical unease a cinematic séance meant to unearth what we bury deep.

Brueilly’s ambition is undeniable. Musically and visually, 7eventh 7irkle is his most experimental work to date, a daring departure from earlier chapters of his expanding universe. The editing feels almost ritualistic, cutting like a blade and then drifting like smoke, creating a rhythm that unsettles as much as it seduces. The use of real-world locations adds an eerie tactility these aren’t sets, they’re scars on the earth, breathing beneath the lens.

Of course, the work’s greatest strength also exposes its cracks. Filming with a lower-quality phone gives the imagery an unintentional VHS grunge that lives somewhere between retro aesthetic and lost potential. It’s too sharp to feel authentically lo-fi and too soft to match the ambition of its vision, a paradox that occasionally blunts the film’s impact. Clarity suffers, especially in moments that beg to be sharp enough to wound.

Yet, in a strange way, that imperfection becomes part of the myth. 7eventh 7irkle is not a polished descent but a jagged one.