‘Saccharine’ Sundance Review – Supernatural Body Horror Takes Aim at Diet Culture

Relic filmmaker Natalie Erica James is back with another haunting horror metaphor rooted in the personal. Saccharine gives a supernatural twist to the current body horror trend, taking aim at disordered eating and the diet culture that exploits it. Like Relic, James’ latest operates on a sustained sense of dread that goes far, even when not all ideas congeal.

Medical student Hana (Midori Francis) struggles with binge eating, so much so that she’s hyper-focused on tracking and pursuing her weight goals. When she bumps into an old friend who’s shed quite a lot of pounds, it doesn’t take much convincing for Hana to try their mysterious new weight loss pill. It works.

It works so well that Hana analyzes it, discovering the new fad is human ashes. But her disgust is quickly overruled by the pill’s effectiveness, so she turns to the human cadaver her class group has dubbed “Big Bertha” to synthesize her own, leading to terrifying results.

The body horror here largely stems from body dysmorphia, with Francis donning a fat suit in the early stretches as Hana succumbs to gross yet sexual bursts of gluttony, striking imagery of a quiet woman driven by insatiable need, followed by psychological torment of the self-inflicted guilt variety.

But James keeps the popular subgenre fresh with a new wrinkle; it’s not the body horror providing the scares but the increasingly angry specter haunting Hana. Hana finds herself at the mercy of a pesky poltergeist, only exacerbating her weight loss predicament. Big Bertha makes for a menacing presence that supports both the horror and exposes Hana’s deepest, darkest insecurities and fears.

That’s where Saccharine is at its strongest, when it’s focused on the disquieting decline of Hana, an assured and intelligent med student slowly coming undone by an increasing loss of self-control. It’s a sturdy metaphor that works when James keeps it focused and simple.

The longer the runtime forges on, though, the less focused Saccharine becomes. Attempts to inject a personal touch aren’t fleshed out enough to make an impact, like the underdeveloped relationship between Hana and her father, meant to illuminate more of Hana’s background leading to her current predicament. There’s an obvious parallel to the way Hana and the camera treat dad like a dirty secret, but it’s so skittishly handled that it detracts from core messaging.

It’s but one of many examples of underbaked supporting characters and subplots, like a brewing romance between Hana and her crush, personal trainer Alanya (Madeleine Madden), where a lack of chemistry makes this aspect of the plot and Hana’s motivations a tougher sell. At least it builds to a suitably nasty conclusion. Inversely, Danielle Macdonald‘s Josie, Hana’s supportive classmate and friend, injects lively energy that’s frequently missing from the dour, disquieting feature.

Saccharine continues James’ trend for unpacking her personal experiences for a broadly relatable horror metaphor, and her ability to instill discomfort for large stretches. Francis remarkably brings Hana’s quiet interiority to the surface along with all her messier emotions. But it’s too sparse and underdeveloped for its length, a potent short film stretched past its brink.

James mirrors her protagonist in that she seems to bite off more than she can chew in trying to cover all ground when it comes to disordered eating. Luckily, Saccharine makes its stance on diet culture clear with grotesque imagery, suitable body horror freakouts, and an unwavering feeling of dread, enough to balance the scales.

Saccharine made its world premiere at Sundance and has been acquired for 2026 release by IFC & Shudder.