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It seems to me that to be pure a film must, above all, refuse to mingle what is false with what is true. With this single condition, the cinema is a powerful machine. It can crush. I believe it is uniquely suited to painting the nuances of the heart and the soul, but that’s another question which will lead us too far astray.
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There looms, within abjection, one of those violent, dark revolts of being, directed against a threat that seems to emanate from an exorbitant outside or inside, ejected beyond the scope of the possible, the tolerable, the thinkable. It lies there, quite close, but it cannot be assimilated. It beseeches, worries, and fascinates desire, which, nevertheless, does not let itself be seduced. Apprehensive, desire turns aside; sickened, it rejects.
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Julia Kristeva | Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection