Delivering on the promise he showed with his 2005 feature Kinetta, Yorgos Lanthimos deals a masterful blow below the belt. In his latest triumph, sex is everywhere, tucked away in the David Hockneyesque set pieces, sabotaging the actors' speech patterns and hiding behind the director's undisclosed intentions.Dogtooth focuses on three teenagers confined to an isolated country estate that could very well be on another planet. Channelling The Little Prince sensibilities, the trio spend their days listening to endless homemade tapes that teach them a whole new vocabulary. Any word that comes from beyond their family abode is instantly assigned a new meaning. Hence “the sea” refers to a large armchair and “zombies” are little yellow flowers.Having invented a brother whom they claim to have ostracized for his disobedience, the über-controlling parents terrorize their offspring into submission. The father is the only family member who can leave the manicured lawns of their self-inflicted exile, earning their keep by managing a nearby factory, while the only outsider allowed on the premises is his colleague Christina, who is paid to relieve the son of his male urges. Tired of these dutiful acts of carnality, Christina enlists the elder daughter for some girl-on-girl action, carelessly disturbing the domestic balance. Soon enough, sex has spread throughout the household like fire. Next stop: rebellion.Masterfully art directed and intensely focused, Dogtooth feels so otherworldly it could easily pass as science fiction. Yet Lanthimos consciously strives for his own brand of hyper-stylized realism – even if it exists solely within the confines of a well-executed script. Mercilessly satirizing middle-class ethics, his new film exposes the muffled sexual undercurrents that exist behind family life, proclaiming Lanthimos master of a brave, new world: a deliciously dry Greek cinema, shaken, not stirred.