A movie which leaves me feeling maybe it’s all worth it. All those piles and piles of unimaginative, derivative stories. This one is a detective story. Oh, a horror flick. A family drama. Once the formula is recognized, the obedient ending follows along like a dog’s tail. Not so, Suicide Circle.

Most movies are diversions. People watch them as such. Absorb a little melodrama. Phase back into reality with a souvenir keepsake called “the hook.” When a friend asks, hey is that movie any good, present the hook. Great special effects. Girl saves world. Robot dog. Whatever.

People killing themselves with apparent joie de vivre. I suppose that is the hook for Suicide Circle. Why? Why are they killing themselves? Why so happy? An answer is expected. Detectives throw out dragnets. Strange voices make ominous predictions. Answers never materialize. Instead, the movie turns around and asks, “Why expect an answer? Who are these people to you, and why do you care? Do you even know yourself?”

You. Yes, you. This movie is about you. Suicide Circle asks you to connect to yourself, not the story, not the characters.

Is that the meaning? Is there meaning? The story doesn’t say, but I love the fact that I still have access. I can search for meaning in this movie.

What is this movie about? What are movies? An object shaped like a roll of film. An audience applauding, not a performance, but a true intention. Clues overlooked by the characters, because they are in the movie. But we exist outside the movie. Or do we even realize it?