Killgrin, written and directed by Joanna Tsanis, delivers a unique blend of horror and psychological drama, but its uneven pacing and somewhat predictable execution may leave some viewers longing for more.
The story centers on Miranda (Konstantina Mantelos), a woman grappling with personal tragedy, who turns to unconventional self-help methods after a spiritual healer informs her that her aura is infected by a malevolent force known as a "Killgrin." This dark entity, which feeds off her misery, begins to have a horrifying effect on those around her. Although skeptical at first, Miranda's discovery of the Killgrin's power soon leads her down a terrifying path, blurring the line between the supernatural and reality.
The film has strong elements, particularly in its atmosphere and body-horror effects. The practical effects used to depict the victims, with their distorted, grotesque features, are a definite highlight—reminding me of Jack Nicholson’s Joker in Batman (1989) in terms of their eerie impact. The monster reveal is also worth noting, though it teeters between intriguing and unintentionally comical when fully shown in the film's climax. Despite this, the horror effectively plays on themes of anxiety, grief, and depression, echoing films like The Babadook and Smile.
Mantelos’ performance as Miranda is another standout. She delivers a strong and believable portrayal of a woman unravelling under the weight of grief. Her portrayal grounds the supernatural elements in emotional truth. However, not all performances are as compelling. Adam Tsekhman’s portrayal of Brian, a support group member, is particularly grating. His character lacks the necessary depth to justify his presence in the film beyond a few moments of romantic comedy banter, which feels jarring and out of place given the film's darker themes. Similarly, while the character of the cop, played by Ramona Milano, has a potentially interesting role, the performance lacks conviction, weakening the believability of her character's involvement.
The film’s pacing struggles at times, particularly with an overreliance on exposition. The prolonged dialogue scenes can feel tedious, and while they attempt to build suspense, they end up draining the energy from the overall experience. This is particularly evident when Killgrin veers into cliché territory, almost like a Hallmark movie at times—perhaps intentionally so, as a satire of typical self-help tropes—but it doesn’t always land as intended.
The film’s exploration of its titular creature—the Killgrin—offers an intriguing metaphor for suicidal thoughts and the consuming nature of mental illness. However, the creature’s full reveal is a bit laughable, resembling something out of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, and doesn’t quite resonate as powerfully as intended.
Ultimately, Killgrin is a film that brings some solid horror elements to the table but doesn’t fully capitalize on them. Its exploration of grief and anxiety is compelling, but the overuse of exposition and some underwhelming performances dilute the impact. The film’s ending feels anticlimactic, and despite its stylistic strengths, it doesn't quite live up to the atmospheric potential it initially promises. Still, with a strong poster and some notable body horror, Killgrin could be worth a watch for those looking for a low-budget horror film with a deeper metaphorical edge.
Jessie Hobson