The Hour of The Wolf, Ingmar Bergman, 1968
Le freaky. Certains aspects of it look quaint today (the tortured artist), but in terms of technical achievement and atmosphere, it's an amazing movie. It's also very interesting from the viewpoint of having a so-called auteur dabbling in horror, playing with the conventions of the genre (it has some psychotic outbursts of humor, too - there's a scene where an imp creeps behind the protagonist, getting real close to his back while an ominous music starts pounding. It's so loud and in your face it's almost unbearable, you know shit will hit the fan, Bergman milks the scene for a long time, and thennn... the music halts, the imp moves away from the protagonist just like that and nothing happens. Cheeky bastard...)
Earlier in the film the artist shows his sketchbook to his wife, where he has drawn a host of abominations that have been plaguing him. We don't get to see the drawings, we only hear his descriptions and see the face of his wife looking at the drawings, slowly realizing that her husband's sanity is going titwards. Very effective - it reminded me of some of G. Morrison's alien descriptions, actually. Later in the film we get to sse some of those characters - and really, they were more effective as mere descriptions. The lady didn't need to remove her face along with the hat, it's what I'm saying.