‘The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick’ Review: Paranoia Turns Parasitic in Strange Self-Care Thriller

SXSW: Director Pete Ohs takes audiences to a rustic cabin for a grief getaway they only think they know.

Our chronic need for self-care can sometimes feel like its own illness. Whether you’re slapping on your daily deodorant or attending a weekly therapy session, “taking care” of yourself means managing the symptoms of being a living-breathing person… forever. It’s annoying, time-consuming, and, in the world of wellness marketing, a lucrative and consumable constant. In “The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick,” filmmaker Pete Ohs examines snake oil culture as a means for exploiting both anxiety and fear.

Co-written by the director/editor/producer and the movie’s four lead actors, this sunny-yet-claustrophobic nightmare asks if the faux “healing” mentality — seen here as a stranger-danger version of a weekend getaway you only think you know — is really what’s making modern people sick. Foregoing the influencer-inspired sheen of something like the beauty thriller “Skincare,” this decidedly strange SXSW premiere follows the grieving Yvonne (Zoë Chao) into a friend’s rustic home and unsettling life.

White linens, whole grains, stunning landscapes, and the chance to “unplug” await Yvonne at a remote location. The promise of getting back to basics in a time of emotional turmoil is recognizable — particularly to millennials of a certain age — but the true nature of the tragedy impacting the protagonists isn’t clear at first. When the bird-like Camille (Callie Hernandez, also a producer) opens the front door to her picturesque cottage and brings Yvonne inside, her already-emotional house guest is troubled to find she’ll be sharing the intimate and idyllic space with two men she doesn’t know.

An inventive cook named AJ (James Cusati-Moyer) and his real estate agent boyfriend, Isaac (Jeremy O. Harris, producer), welcome the new arrival with open arms, even as an intense sense of discomfort settles over the scene. The oblivious hostess and her granola maybe-roommates/maybe-lovers(??) start out harmless enough. There’s nothing wrong with encouraging Yvonne to wake up early and catch a “resplendent” sunrise — or to forego her favorite comfort foods and try the chef’s unusual cuisine — is there? Yvonne, still shell-shocked from tragedy and staring down a bowl of what looks like free-range vomit, would beg to differ if the vibes weren’t already so bad. Is she overreacting? Or are they pushing?

Normalcy and structure can do wonders for a loved one dealing with a tough time. And yet, “The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick” makes the trio nagging Yvonne to work through whatever mysterious trauma is ailing her — in the most Anthropologie-like fashions imaginable — feel more like a psychological assault. The result is vaguely akin to a more queer take on the Armitage estate from “Get Out,” but might be better described as Marnie’s wedding episode from HBO’s “Girls” crossed over with the 2006 sci-fi horror movie, “Slither.” That second comparison oversells the gore a bit, but the James Gunn classic is a strong hint for genre aficionados looking to guess at the true nature of the tick terror Ohs has in play.

Polite suggestions morph into silent judgment before the awkward pressure builds to a point so fine not even tweezers could pull the thorny social situation out. Fed-up with her friend but still famished from all that farm-to-table bullshit, Yvonne storms into the backyard woods after just a few days. It’s only a walk to clear her head, she thinks, but back at Camille’s (and AJ’s and Isaac’s), no real act of self-care can go unpunished. The next morning, Yvonne gazes deep into a vintage mirror as she extracts a blood-sucking freeloader from her shoulder blade. The bite is bad. She should go to the hospital, right? Wrong. The treatment for anything that has ever hurt anyone, her cozy captors say, is already here.

Lyme disease typically lasts between two to four weeks when met with the appropriate course of antibiotics. Running a breezy 80 minutes, “The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick” goes by faster than that — although a little countryside ambience goes a long, long way. Ohs’ latest feature isn’t quite as strong as his first film (he co-directed “Everything Beautiful Is Far Away” with Andrea Sisson in 2017) and he could have used a collaborator willing to make more aggressive edits. Sure, that would have the potential to grind the movie’s duration so far down that it might be reclassified as a short. But when it comes to not wasting the precious resource of time, there’s no use nursing unbroken skin.

Intriguing as it is tedious, this wobbly narrative seems to yearn for the authorial clarity of a bee sting but nevertheless hangs on like a confused parasite. There’s plenty of symbolism to unpack here, particularly as it relates to the cast’s ever-shifting queer dynamic and the philosophical collision between Yvonnne’s vulnerability and the other’s snide critiques. But what begins as a mesmerizing exhibition of detachment — anchored in a mood of chic condescension and indifference so stylish it should be on a Pinterest board — devolves into a lackadaisical cruelty that’s less compelling and not cohesive.

Despite having one of its characters reference the title verbatim (which for good or bad got a big laugh from me), “The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick” proves generally useless as a dramatic question. A peer-reviewed study from the Mayo Clinic might leave audiences with a more satisfying, less ethereal answer. But Ohs’ challenging new alternative to more standard genre fare is still enjoyable as a fresh and gutsy experiment. The aesthetic boasts just enough creepiness to make you itch between scenes, and the film’s extra-slippery lead performers/writers vacillate between the sinister and serene sides of relaxation with such speed and ease that small-bladdered individuals should reconsider the bathroom.

Of course, you know what’s best for you better than anyone else. That’s especially true when it comes to indulging in projects like Ohs’ bizarre creature feature dissecting one-sided relationships and so-called self-care. A recipe for impatience with the wrong cinephiles but an innovative salve to the right ones, “The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick” makes a lasting impression — even if it is blotchy, faded, and several rings shy of hitting that classic tick-bite bullseye mark.

Grade: C+

“The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick” premiered at SXSW 2025.

Want to stay up to date on IndieWire’s film reviews and critical thoughts? Subscribe here to our newly launched newsletter, In Review by David Ehrlich, in which our Chief Film Critic and Head Reviews Editor rounds up the best new reviews and streaming picks along with some exclusive musings — all only available to subscribers.