Sarah Cloke

Sarah Cloke’s filmography, yeah, it’s a bit like a moody mixtape for folks who aren’t afraid of the dark. You’ve got Calvary (2014), which honestly hits like a punch in the gut. Brendan Gleeson plays a priest trying to keep things together in a small Irish town, all while dragging this heavy cross of secrets and threats tossed at him from every direction. The town’s full of people who are broken in their own weird ways, and Cloke’s presence there adds a layer of raw, unsettled emotion. Jump to Mary Shelley (2017), and suddenly you’re in rainy England, surrounded by poets and scandals. Elle Fanning is Mary, scribbling out Frankenstein while the world basically tells her to stay in her lane. The movie’s soaked in candlelight, heartbreak, and rebellion. Cloke doesn’t steal the spotlight, but her supporting role gives the whole thing a little more bite – there’s a tension simmering underneath, like everyone’s got their own storm going on. Then there’s A Dark Song (2016), which, let’s be real, is just unsettling as hell. Two people lock themselves in a remote house to do this massive occult ritual, hoping to contact the dead. The boundaries between grief, obsession, and the supernatural get real blurry, real fast. Super claustrophobic, zero jump scares, but everything feels off-kilter. Cloke fits in perfectly with the vibe – you’re never quite sure what’s real and what’s just desperation. All in all, Sarah Cloke’s films aren’t for the faint-hearted. There’s always this undercurrent of pain, longing, and the kind of hope that’s almost too fragile to hold.