Eating disorders have been around a long time, but they’re currently occupying a weirdly prominent place in mainstream culture. The AI-tweaked realms of social media push ideals that are increasingly unattainable—even if they feel within reach, thanks to new weight-loss drugs whose side effects are only starting to come into focus.
“Ozempic face” isn’t part of the conversation in Saccharine, the latest horror film from Australian writer-director Natalie Erika James (Relic, Apartment 7A). But the unhealthy pursuit of thinness very much is, with supernatural terror slathered on top.
The first images we see in Saccharine are of food being gobbled in extreme close-up—played in reverse, blending the acts of binging and purging with unsettling ease—and of a very in-shape woman exercising. She’s being ogled by another gymgoer who quickly looks away, and we soon realize this is who we just saw stuffing her face: Hana (Midori Francis).
Back in her apartment, Hana’s next actions may look painfully familiar to anyone who’s been in the trenches of disordered eating. First, she dumps a half-eaten box of donuts in the trash, squirting what looks like hot sauce on them to make them even less tempting. Then she flips to a fresh page in her diet journal. This is the cycle: overeat, feel regret, vow to regain control, vow that this is the very last time… and begin again.
And Hana does make an effort. When the alluring Alanya (Wheel of Time’s Madeleine Madden) invites her to join a 12-week fitness challenge, Hana shyly hesitates; she’s busy with med school, after all. But she eventually agrees, eager to be coached by her not-so-secret crush.
It could be the set-up for an edgy rom-com, but don’t be fooled. Saccharine wastes no time foregrounding the uneasy emotions that propel Hana’s actions—shame, guilt, dread, envy, fury—in this cautionary tale about believing you can succeed by taking the easy way out. When Hana runs into an old friend who’s experienced life-changing weight loss, she learns about a mysterious new off-market pill. It’s highly effective. It’s expensive. But, uh, what is it, exactly?
Again, Saccharine doesn’t make you wait. When Hana analyzes the gritty material contained in the capsule, she realizes it’s human ashes. Icky! No wonder it costs so much. But as it happens, Hana has easy access to a cadaver—a corpulent woman her anatomy classmates have dubbed “Big Bertha.” There’s plenty of flesh and gristle to spare, and nobody will notice if a few pieces go missing. Hana barely hesitates before defiling a corpse in the name of desperate vanity.
This would be harmful and highly problematic in any context, but Hana is more vulnerable to psychic repercussions than most, something that becomes clearer once we start to poke deeper into her life.
The dynamic between her parents is worrisome; her mother is a control freak who has a camera in the kitchen to keep tabs on Hana’s dad, who is obese and housebound and not allowed to rummage through the fridge. When Mom flits away for a brief solo vacation, she asks her daughter to check in on her father—and to switch up the offerings at the family altar, because “we don’t want to attract any hungry ghosts.”
It’s a bit on the nose, considering Hana has started glimpsing a spirit whose aggressive behavior escalates the more weight she drops. And while James is skilled at crafting corner-of-your-eye scares and mining unhealthy drama from mother-daughter relationships, as seen in the elegant, chilling Relic, the “ghost haunts person who ate her ashes” plot is actually the least startling part of Saccharine.
Far more intriguing is the inner turmoil that rages within Hana, whose eating habits take on a gruesome new purpose as her uncanny attachment to Bertha grows stronger. Turns out a slimmer figure is not the key to happiness; she experiences no catharsis or enjoyment, only escalating anxiety. As Hana shrinks, James lenses the stuff of diet horrors—including a bathroom scale, piles of empty takeout boxes, and the feeling of eating far beyond the point of fullness—with as much dread as she does Saccharine’s more unearthly frights.
There are other agonies too, like Hana’s budding romance with Alanya, which hits a terribly awkward snag. There’s also the breakdown of her close friendship with Josie (Danielle Macdonald), who’s rightfully shocked and concerned when she realizes Hana’s obsessive fixation on self-improvement has morphed into self-harm.
Hana’s physical transformation from vaguely plump to alarmingly gaunt comes courtesy of prosthetics, digital wizardry, and clever camera trickery; it’s subtle from scene to scene but overall very effective and proves an ideal enhancement to Francis’ fierce performance.
Not all of Saccharine works—its ending makes an especially perplexing choice—but the level of sheer discomfort it inspires cannot be understated, and that is an achievement worth noting.
Saccharine opens in theaters May 22.
Want more io9 news? Check out when to expect the latest Marvel, Star Wars, and Star Trek releases, what’s next for the DC Universe on film and TV, and everything you need to know about the future of Doctor Who.
Read the full article here
