In the landscape of modern horror, few filmmakers have carved out a niche as specific and unsettling as Natalie Erika James. Following the success of her debut feature Relic and her foray into established IP with Apartment 7A, James returns to her roots of deeply personal, metaphorical storytelling with Saccharine. Premiering in the prestigious Midnight section of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival on January 22, the film immediately marked itself as one of the most provocative entries of the year. Produced by Carver Films, IPR.VC, and Thrum Films, and set for a North American release via Shudder and IFC Films later in 2026, the movie tackles the contemporary obsession with wellness and body image through a lens that is as sickly sweet as its title suggests.
The story centers on Hana (Midori Francis), a dedicated but deeply insecure medical student struggling with a severe binge-eating disorder. Her life is a cycle of intense academic pressure and private moments of gluttonous self-destruction until she discovers a shortcut to the "perfect" body. After encountering an old friend who has undergone a miraculous transformation, Hana is introduced to a mysterious gray pill. The catch? The primary ingredient is human remains. As a medical student with access to a cadaver nicknamed "Big Bertha," Hana begins to manufacture her own supply, only to find that she is consuming more than just calories—she is inviting a vengeful spirit into her own flesh. Saccharine matters because it arrives in the "Ozempic era," a time when the desire for a quick fix for physical "perfection" has reached a fever pitch, making its supernatural metaphors feel uncomfortably grounded in reality.
Story and Screenplay: A Multi-Course Meal with Too Many Side Dishes
The narrative quality of Saccharine is defined by its "maximalist" approach. Natalie Erika James, who also wrote the screenplay, moves away from the minimalist dread of Relic to deliver something far more explosive and chaotic. The structure is built around Hana’s escalating addiction, mirroring the frantic energy of a binge. Initially, the script is a sharp satire of "wellness" culture, skewering the hollow promises of social media influencers and the predatory nature of the diet industry. However, as the film progresses into its 113-minute runtime, it begins to feel overstuffed with competing themes. James attempts to weave in threads about generational trauma, sexual identity, and even the psychological impact of self-help journaling, which occasionally causes the central metaphor to lose its focus.
The pacing and rhythm of the film are intentionally erratic. There are moments of slow-burn psychological tension that suddenly give way to high-octane "poltergeist" sequences where the ghost of "Big Bertha" makes its presence known with destructive force. While this captures the instability of Hana's mental state, it can lead to a disjointed viewing experience. The script's greatest strength is its refusal to shy away from the "gross-out" factor, finding a dark, satirical humor in Hana’s willingness to cross unthinkable moral lines for the sake of a thinner waistline. Its weakness, however, lies in its inability to fully flesh out its supporting world, leaving some subplots—like Hana's strained relationship with her father—feeling like unfinished business.
Acting and Characters: Midori Francis and the Carnal Intensity of Consumption
If Saccharine is a success, it is largely due to the transformative performance of Midori Francis. As Hana, Francis delivers a turn that is both physically demanding and emotionally raw. In the early stretches of the film, she dons a "fat suit" and prosthetics to depict Hana’s initial physical state, but it is her internal work that truly resonates. She captures the "quiet interiority" of a woman who feels like a stranger in her own skin, making her descent into ash-eating madness feel tragically believable. Whether she is performing a "mukbang" of greasy burgers or conducting DIY surgery on herself in a dumpster, Francis remains fully committed to the character’s warped logic.
The supporting cast provides necessary anchors in Hana’s spiraling world. Danielle Macdonald is a standout as Josie, Hana’s med-school classmate and the film’s moral compass. Macdonald brings a grounded, lively energy to a movie that often threatens to drown in its own gloom. On the other hand, Madeleine Madden plays Alanya, the fitness trainer who serves as the object of Hana’s obsession and affection. While Madden is effective in the role, the script doesn't quite develop the chemistry between her and Francis enough to make their romantic subplot feel vital to the narrative. The characters representing Hana's past, like her mother and father, serve more as thematic symbols of generational pressure than fully realized people, which occasionally blunts the emotional impact of the family-centered scenes.
Direction and Technical Aspects: The Visceral Beauty of the Repulsive
Natalie Erika James proves once again that she is a master of atmosphere, but here she trades the "rotting house" of her debut for a more carnal brand of horror. Her directorial vision is uncompromising, blending the clinical coldness of a medical lab with the warm, saturated colors of a "wellness" advertisement. This juxtaposition creates a sense of perpetual unease. The visual storytelling is most effective when it focuses on the act of consumption. Working with cinematographer Charlie Sarroff, James utilizes extreme close-ups and macro lenses to turn the act of eating into something alien and threatening.
The production design and visual composition are top-tier. The contrast between the sterile medical environments and the messy, chaotic spaces where Hana binges highlights her fractured identity. One of the film's most haunting technical achievements is the design of "Big Bertha," the spectral entity. Rather than a traditional jump-scare ghost, Bertha is depicted with a bloated, cadaverous physicality that feels like a literal manifestation of Hana’s body dysmorphia. The use of "convex objects"—like security mirrors or the back of a spoon—to reveal the spirit is a clever visual motif, even if the film’s internal "rules" for these hauntings can feel a bit loose at times.
Trailer Saccharine (2026)
Music and Atmosphere: The Bone-Chilling Symphony of Mastication
The atmosphere of Saccharine is perhaps its most oppressive and impressive element. The mood is one of sustained, "sickly sweet" dread, where the beauty of the visuals only serves to make the underlying rot more apparent. The sound design plays a crucial role in this, specifically in the way it handles the audio of eating. The film leans into "mukbang ASMR" aesthetics, amping up the sounds of chewing, swallowing, and tearing food to a level that will make even the most seasoned horror fan squirm. This audio focus turns the most basic human necessity into an act of violence.
While the specific score by Miles Ross has been described by some as "repellent" or "cascading," it serves the film's goal of keeping the audience in a state of sensory overload. It doesn't aim to be pleasant; it aims to mirror the psychological distress of a protagonist who is literally being consumed by her own desires. The overall tone is one of "hermetic gloom," where the outside world feels increasingly distant as Hana becomes more isolated with her supernatural passenger. It is an exhausting atmospheric experience, but one that perfectly captures the "insatiable need" that drives the characters.
Strengths and Weaknesses
What works well:
- Midori Francis’ Performance: A brave, "no-holds-barred" turn that anchors the film’s most extreme moments in human truth.
- Grotesque Visual Imagery: The close-up "mukbang" sequences and the design of the "Big Bertha" entity are hauntingly original.
- The "Ozempic Era" Metaphor: The film’s take on the dangerous shortcuts of modern diet culture is timely and biting.
- Danielle Macdonald: Her performance as Josie provides a much-needed breath of fresh air and humanity.
- The Nasty Conclusion: James doesn't pull her punches, delivering an ending that is both satisfyingly gross and thematically resonant.
What doesn't work:
- Overstuffed Script: By trying to tackle everything from generational trauma to sexual identity, the central story occasionally feels diluted.
- Pacing Issues: At 113 minutes, the film feels about 30 minutes too long, with some repetitive montage sequences that drag the rhythm.
- Underdeveloped Subplots: The relationship between Hana and her father feels skittish and unfinished, lacking the emotional payoff it aims for.
- Lore Inconsistency: The "rules" regarding when and how the spirit can appear or interact with the physical world feel a bit arbitrary.
Final Verdict: A Bitter Pill Worth Swallowing
Rating: 3.5/5 stars
Saccharine is a bold, "maximalist" return for Natalie Erika James that proves she is one of the most exciting voices in modern horror. It is a film that demands a strong stomach and a willingness to engage with the darkest parts of our cultural obsession with physical appearance. While it suffers from some "sophomore slump" symptoms—namely an over-eagerness to include every idea the director had during the writing process—the core of the movie is a powerful, visceral examination of self-loathing and the ghosts we invite in when we try to erase who we are.
Who should watch it? This is a must-see for fans of "body horror" and psychological thrillers that prioritize atmosphere and performance. If you appreciated films like Raw, The Substance, or James’ own Relic, you will find much to admire here. It is also a fascinating watch for those interested in the social intersections of "wellness" culture and mental health. Who might not enjoy it? If you are prone to misophonia (a sensitivity to sounds like chewing) or if you are squeamish about medical gore and "gross-out" imagery, you should stay far away. Additionally, those who prefer their horror films to have a fast, linear pace might find the 113-minute runtime a bit of a slog. Ultimately, Saccharine is a messy, beautiful, and deeply troubling experience that confirms Natalie Erika James isn't just "playing the hits"—she’s rewriting the rules of the genre.
Recommendation: See it on the biggest screen possible to appreciate the stunning cinematography, but maybe skip the popcorn. This is a film that stays with you, leaving a taste in your mouth that is both sickly sweet and undeniably bitter. It is a potent, if occasionally overstuffed, cautionary tale for the modern age.
 Movie Review: A Grotesque and Overstuffed Exploration of the Insatiable Hunger for Social Perfection){kind=link}
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