Saccharine

Nowadays, it feels like every ad on social media or TV is trying to sell you some version of “perfection.” Whether it’s products to grow your hair back, workouts that promise to make you feel twenty again, or weight-loss pills claiming to change your life, the message always feels the same: if you don’t look perfect, what’s the point? That constant bombardment can really wear on people, and horror has always been a great genre for tapping into our deepest fears—including the fear of how we look. Natalie Erika James understands that, and in her new film Saccharine, she takes the desire to lose weight to a terrifying extreme.

Hana (Midori Francis) is a promising student hoping to become a doctor someday, but despite all of her ambition, she’s deeply unhappy with her body. No matter what she tries, she can’t seem to reach the weight she wants. That changes when she reconnects with a former high school friend who is suddenly half the size she used to be. The secret, apparently, is a pill she’s been taking, and after giving Hana a few samples, Hana quickly becomes obsessed.

Using her medical knowledge, Hana breaks down what’s inside the capsules and realizes she can make them herself. Soon, she starts seeing the results she’s always wanted. She joins a twelve-week fitness program run by Alanya (Madeleine Madden), and for the first time in her life, things seem to be working. The only problem is that the pills come with horrifying side effects, including violent hunger and compulsive binge eating, even as the weight continues to melt away. Before long, Hana realizes the real cost of what she’s doing, and that some things just aren’t worth sacrificing in the pursuit of perfection.

Written and directed by James, Saccharine is a slow-burn horror film that can occasionally feel a little indulgent, but it absolutely knows how to get under your skin. This is not always an easy watch. James leans heavily into uncomfortable imagery involving food consumption and body horror, while also layering in emotional trauma and insecurity. The horror here isn’t just about shock value—it’s about the emotional damage that comes from constantly feeling like you’re not enough.

Not everything fully works. At times, the film’s metaphors feel a little too heavy-handed, and the runtime could have been trimmed down. Still, there’s a lot here that lands. The sound design is fantastic and creates a genuinely unsettling sensory experience, and Midori Francis delivers a fearless physical performance as Hana slowly unravels in pursuit of the “perfect” body. She completely commits to where James takes the character, and that commitment carries a lot of the film’s emotional weight.

Fans of James’s Relic may find themselves a little disappointed that Saccharine never reaches the same heights, but there’s still plenty to appreciate here. Even when the film struggles with clarity or pacing, it keeps you engaged in the struggles. In the end, much like real life, Saccharine reminds us that perfection isn’t necessary to have value, and despite its flaws, It still gives you enough to chew on.

Brian Taylor

Member of the North Texas Film Critics Association, and lover of all things Cinema