American South, Great Depression. Ben Harper steals 10 000 dollars, and before the police come to take him away, he tells a secret to his son, John, and makes him vow to never tell anyone. When Harry 'Preacher' Powell, who is based on the real-life serial killer Harry Powers, comes to town, he captivates everyone with his charming personality and convinces them he's a man of God.

The first time he appears at John's house, he's a shadow on the wall. Like a boogeyman from a child's tale. He slithers his way into John's family, winning his mother Willa and sister Pearl on his side. For something that is so dark, like from the darkest depths of fairy tale forests, Night of the Hunter's gorgeous writing is almost otherworldly. It moves between Powell's corrupted mind and child's innocence equally convincingly.

That same ethereal mood continues in Charles Laughton's 1955 adaptation, his only film as a director, as expressionistic images, play between shadow and light, and unusual camera angles. Robert Mitchum's (who my parents know from westerns and I know from noir) performance is pretty much eerily perfect in capturing the monster chasing his prey.

This is why I love Southern Gothic. There's so much beauty, but it lets the cracks show through. I rarely give five stars to books, but when I do, you'd better believe I'm serious.