After a tragic loss one year before, a group of adventurous women decide go go spelunking in the Appalachian wilderness...shit gets intense.
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Loss, guilt, darkness, claustrophobia, paranoia, heights, broken bones. Even before the film takes a hard left turn towards more traditional genre tropes, it has already been one of the most horrific things you've ever seen. Grounded by strong characters and performances, it makes perfect sense why this film has quickly come to be considered a classic. And like nearly all great horror classics, it has been followed by a poorly received direct to video sequel where the focus is shifted to the least interesting aspect of the original. Why can't we just allow something to be awesome? The odds against catching lightning in a bottle a second time are staggering. We should just leave well enough alone. I guess it's an outgrowth of the same self-destructive compulsion that sends pretty young things back into a house they know to be haunted. Oh well, at least they got it right once.
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