Critic Reviews

The horror in Knocking isn’t supernatural or down to mental illness: it’s societal. The clever switch in perspective leaves a haunting impression and makes Kempff’s segue into fiction a triumph.

First-time feature director Frida Kempff embraces and revamps genre tropes, casting them in a trenchant feminist light and a character-specific poignancy. The action unfolds entirely through Molly’s perspective, and Cecilia Miloccco’s performance, by turns guarded and explosive, is gripping from first scene to last.

[Kempff] crafts a film that grabs hold of you and doesn’t let go, one that’s equally absorbing in look and performance, despite a diminished importance mere hours after it ends.

Kempff immerses her audience into her character’s tortured headspace, like a tragic hall of mirrors that seems endless.

Knocking is a configuration of atmosphere and dread, paced at a speed of unflinching stillness.

Kempff walks the fine line of being frustratingly vague and trusting the audience to grasp the film fully. Knocking, for the most part, lands in the latter category.

The feverish Knocking puts together a fittingly upsetting portrait of lonely instability through its simple premise, visually inventive first-time director and physically invested star.

Knocking is an uneven film. Despite strong direction by Kempff in her feature debut and a daring, go-for-broke performance by lead actress Milocco, there’s just not enough weight in these hollow knocks and the payoff doesn’t feel earned or substantial enough.

As a sensory experience, Knocking is stunning. The heightened sounds mixed with a stuffy, collapsing ambiance create an unforgettable experience. Pity that the narrative in the midst of all of this fails to match that power. 

The film does strike one long, nerve-jangling note, but the style leaves Molly with nowhere to run.