This portmanteau thriller centres on an intensive therapy session for a group of traumatised survivors of disturbing physical and psychological torment. Brought together in a collective exercise to ‘share and heal’, these distrustful and damaged individuals are encouraged by their therapist to recount their experiences in the ‘safe space’ that she has enabled for them all.

As befits the format, each of these five combative survivors is invited to tell their personal horror story. These tales explore some dark themes: torture and disfigurement; arson and immolation; hostage taking and incarceration; haunting and possession. Writer-director Mico Montes cumulatively builds the atmosphere, savouring the slow-burn of his near two-and-a-half-hour runtime.

As is almost inevitable with any film compilation, some contributions are stronger than others. Perhaps aware of the fact, Montes holds back the most impressive story for last – a genuinely disturbing tale of a tortured goth agoraphobe, whose tentative relationship with a lonely new neighbour spirals in some alarming directions.

The ensemble cast of Bare Skin is strong, even though the nature of the material is not the easiest for any actor to personalise. The standout turn comes from Rachel Alig as the bookish, bespectacled therapist, who manages to wrangle her explosive group to follow the prescriptions she has set out for them all.

Part of the audience buy-in to these sorts of films is the understanding that there will be some kind of concluding pay-off which will bind together the disparate story threads. That is delivered with conviction here, even if the ‘big reveal’ is not that difficult to anticipate. This remains inventive horror filmmaking, with a pleasing sense of self-belief and some unusually sharp edges.

BARE SKIN is available now on major digital platforms.