‘Saccharine’ Review: Natalie Erika James’ Gross-Out Body Horror Is Stuffed with Great Effects and Way Too Many Ideas

Sundance: Midori Francis stars in the "Relic" filmmaker's latest, which trusts the actress to go to great, gory extremes.

Filmmaker Natalie Erika James has never shied away from a haunting: From her breakout hit “Relic” to her “Rosemary’s Baby” prequel “Apartment 7A,” the horror star is steadily carving out a real niche in “the call is coming from inside the house” chillers of all kinds. Her latest, “Saccharine,” feels just as personal as “Relic,” a generational trauma story for the ages, though the maximalist nature of the film offers a new twist on her filmography. But in her apparent eagerness to stuff all manner of ideas, themes, and gross-out scenes into the body-horror joint, James can lose sight of the real meat of her tale.

No, ideas are not in short supply here, because while “Saccharine” could be rightly termed a horror film about body image and eating disorders (shades of “Raw,” “The Substance,” and “The Neon Demon” proliferate), it is also about generational trauma, sexual identity, the scourge of “wellness” social media posts, and even self-help journaling. Execution is more of the issue, as the film’s 112-minute running time feels both packed to the gills and unable to fully tackle everything James’ script throws at the wall. Yet a strong visual sense and excellent performances, especially from Midori Francis, are tough to beat.

It is also, and this cannot be overstated, really, really gross. Let that be a recommendation for those who aren’t shy about these things, which run the gamut from eye-poppingly (or, as audiences will soon learn, eye-twistingly) icky, very impressive, and even occasionally playful.

Hana’s (Francis) obsession with bodies may feel primarily focused on her own (binge-eating, rendered here as a series of close-up mukbang-style sequences), but her entire world is shaped by bodies of all kinds. There’s her thin mother and her obese father. Her comfortable-in-her-own-skin best pal Josie (Danielle Macdonald, doing solid work as a very necessary voice of reason). Alanya, the sexy and sweet trainer at her gym (Madeleine Madden). And the obese cadaver she and Josie are studying in medical school, who soon becomes a character in her own right, horrifyingly nicknamed “Big Bertha.”

But Hana’s obsession with her body is standing in the way of more than just feeling good at the gym. Her consistent binge sessions are ravaging her spirit. She’s into girls but afraid to approach them. Her body is the enemy and the only thing that might free her. Alanya has a 12-week course she’d like Hana to try, but when she runs into an old friend (once fat! now thin!) at a bar, Hana is more intrigued by the little gray pills her pal says have made her into a “completely new person.” Won’t Hana try one or two? Just to see?

The effect is immediate, just one pill helps Hana shed some pounds (better than any of her bad eating habits or off-and-on gym sessions have ever done), and it’s just too damn bad they cost so much. But Hana is — remember this! — in medical school, and she’s got access to all sorts of equipment, which she uses to reverse engineer what’s in the pills. How very convenient that she also has access to the very thing in those pills: human ashes.

That James gets to the truth of the pills so early on is a real plus. We’re not left hanging as Hana attempts to find out what she’s consuming that makes her feel so good. It’s plain-faced: Girl, it’s dead people. That Hana doesn’t flinch at making her own pills (sorry, Big Bertha) handily shows how far she’s willing to go to shed the pounds, and she does just that, and fast. Through a series of clever prosthetics, smart costuming and makeup, and even how Francis carries herself onscreen, Hana starts losing everything she’s long thought has been holding her back.

Not so fast. Hana can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching her, even teasing her. James steadily ratchets up the scale and force of these hauntings, with little moved objects eventually morphing into full-scale possession territory. Soon enough, Hana begins to see the force of all that malevolence: Big Bertha, everywhere, yet only visible to Hana when she gazes into a convex object (one of those things that sounds cool, but has no ultimate meaning). What does Bertha want? Mostly, it seems, she wants Hana to keep eating.

As she dips back into bad cycles, montage after montage shows Hana binging, training, making her own pills (you can guess what that might require), lusting after Alanya, avoiding the obvious pain of her childhood home, and the effect is purposely repetitive. Hana is not in control of her body, perhaps she never has been, and all of this is made literal in increasingly dehumanizing ways. These ideas are big and ripe for the picking, but James’ interest in delivering a full meal verges on overstuffed. It’s haunting stuff, but perhaps not always in the intended ways.

Grade: B-

“Saccharine” premiered at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival. Shudder will release it later this year.

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