
A definitive 7.2/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. A Yarn of Wool remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like movies that feel like a Sunday afternoon nap where you wake up and aren't sure what year it is, sure. If you need explosions or a plot that actually goes anywhere, you’re going to be bored to tears within five minutes. Margie Hines carries the whole thing on her shoulders, and she’s doing a lot with very little dialogue.
It’s a strange little flick. It feels less like a movie and more like a home video someone found in an attic. There’s a texture to the grain here that reminds me of Children of Fate, though with way less drama and way more sitting around.
There’s a part where she drops a ball of yarn, and instead of picking it up immediately, she just lets it roll under a chair. She just stares at it. Most movies would cut that out, but here, it just sits there for ten seconds. It felt... honest. Like, we’ve all been that tired, right?
Sometimes the camera feels like it’s struggling to stay focused on her hands. It reminds me of the shaky, frantic energy you see in Torchy Steps Out, but way slower. It isn't polished, but that’s the charm. It feels like a real person made it, not a factory.
I found myself thinking about Within the Law while watching this, mainly because of how different they are. This isn't trying to prove anything. It isn't trying to be clever. It’s just wool. It’s just a room. It’s just a person. 🧶
Don't look for a deep message. If you go in looking for a 'meditation on life,' you'll hate it. Just watch the thread. It’s better that way.