Stylish Supernatural Horror Saccharine (OVERLOOK) is a Sweet Takedown of Diet Culture

Title: Saccharine

First Non-Festival Release: May 22, 2026 (Theatrical Release)

Director: Natalie Erika James

Writer: Natalie Erika James

Runtime: 112 Minutes

Starring: Midori Francis, Annie Shapero, Madeleine Madden

Where to Watch: Check out where to find it here

This film’s review was written after its screening at the Overlook Film Festival in 2026.

No matter how strong your sense of self is society pushes insanely unrealistic body standards for all. Women, however, face far greater scrutiny for their appearance leading to women seeking out dangerous advice on how to adhere to the standards set before them. All this happens while society judges them no matter how successful they are at implementing their arbitrary rules.

Medical student Hana (Midori Francis) struggles with her body image. Wrestling cravings, grueling workouts, and the trauma of growing up with an almond mom and a father who suffers from severe obesity, her body image is seriously messed up. When she runs into an old friend, Melissa (Annie Shapero), she almost doesn’t recognize her. Melissa explains that an expensive diet pill solved her problems and shared two with Hana. Unbelievably, she starts to lose weight after just one. Curious, she investigates using lab tools at her disposal and discovers the pills contain human ash. Hana makes an impulsive decision to steal remains from her larger-than-average cadaver, cruelly named Big Bertha, to make her own rather than pay thousands of dollars. This choice inadvertently leads to supernatural consequences Hana is not prepared to face.

A stylish, psychologically draining body horror, Saccharine is a sweet Shudder original that delivers searing commentary on body image and eating disorders.

Hana makes for an incredibly compelling yet frustrating protagonist, urging the film on with each disastrous decision after the next. There’s plenty on Hana’s mind while navigating her body’s rapid descent into weight loss. Her overbearing mother’s attempts at helping, her father’s inability to see how his health affects his family, her seemingly one-sided crush on her fitness instructor, her friend’s concern and irritation at her choices, and the pressure of medical school all weigh down on her all the while she is haunted by a ravenous ghost. The weight is crushing, physically and metaphorically for Hana, making an already bad situation dire.

Exploring issues of body image and the ways in which we try to control our own bodies, Saccharine uses its cautionary tale not as a morality test but as a condemnation of the ways we police and use bodies that don’t belong to us. Each morsel Hana ingests powers the entity that has latched onto her, voraciously demanding more of her while she withers away. Saccharine forces the viewer to take this journey with Hana. Through every late-night sleep-binging episode, each craving derailing her day-to-day work, and the haunting revelation that everyone always has something to say about her body, thin or otherwise, Saccharine believably executes the pervasive anguish that comes with body dysmorphia and unrealistic body image standards.

Midori Francis delivers an exceptional performance as the research-driven med student with a desire to break the cycles created by her parents. Francis imbues enough sympathy for Hana while tackling each of her emotional scenes with determination and an appropriate amount of fear.

Stylistically indulgent, Saccharine is unafraid to get messy and bold with its imagery. Here, food is the source of horror. Montages of Hana consuming various bites quickly becomes a source of fascination and disgust. Bright colors, quick cutaways, and intentional messiness quickly becomes overwhelming. Much like the nature of diseases like eating disorders, it isn’t the judgment itself that sends Hana into a tailspin, but the sheer power food has over her: whether she avoids it or indulges.

What stops Saccharine from achieving body horror excellence is its strange stinger of an ending. Undoing all the goodwill it builds from Hana’s journey, the final moments upend the messaging to the point where it feels copy and pasted from a different film. Undoubtedly a beautiful and provocative final shot, Saccharine lingers on something that feels so antithetical to the point it is hammering home throughout Hana’s ordeal.

There’s plenty to fear and loathe in Saccharine. Its disorienting approach to both body horror and the supernatural pairs well with the absolute hell that disordered eating wreaks on those unfortunate enough to suffer from them. The messaging may get muddled with its eyebrow-raising ending but there’s enough meat on the bones to support the hyper-stylized assault on the senses that comes with Saccharine.

Overall Score? 7/10