By George & Josh Bate
The idyllic image of motherhood perpetuated by the media and subsequently internalized by many is far from the reality many women experience. Everyone, including those without children, know that parenting is difficult, but what happens when your child isn’t what you expected? What happens when your child is a far cry from the happy, easy-going baby you envisioned? How does one grapple with a complex assortment of emotions, sometimes ranging from unconditional love to unbridled hatred, toward a child you brought into this world?
These questions and more lay at the heart of Nightborn, an unsettling and thought-provoking new psychological horror film that explores the intricacies of postpartum depression with a backdrop of Nordic mythology.
Making its North American premiere at Fantasia 2026, Nightborn follows Finnish native Saga (Seidi Haarla) and her English husband Jon (Rupert Grint) as they relocate to Saga’s homeland to start a new life in a home deep in the Finnish forest. Shortly after giving birth to their first child, Saga begins to suspect that something is deeply wrong with her son, something those around her, including her husband, don’t seem to realize. As Saga grapples with the possibility that her baby is not who she thought he was, her marriage with Jon begins to fracture and she discovers disturbing ties to Finnish mythology and her upbringing.
Nightborn is far from the first film to examine the often overlooked complexities of motherhood through a genre lens, but director Hanna Bergholm handles heavy themes with a delicacy and poignancy that allows her movie to stand apart in how it executes familiar ideas with novelty. Last year, Mary Bronstein’s If I Had Legs I’d Kick You explored the limits of maternal love and how parental responsibility can render a person psychologically immobile. Previously, the likes of The Babadook and Baby Ruby undertook similar explorations, albeit by grounding the themes in more fantastical and terrifying stories.
Bergholm touches on many of the points that the aforementioned movies do and, in turn, creates a film that feels a tad too familiar at times. However, the craftsmanship underlying Bergholm’s filmmaking, a superb lead performance from Seidi Haarla, and a propensity to unsettle, both through its themes and imagery, make Nighborn a worthwhile watch.
Bergholm draws influence from Rosemary’s Baby in obscuring the face of Saga and Jon’s baby until the very end of the film. Without a cute face to reference, their child becomes an even more unsettling presence in the film due to a number of subtle decisions from the filmmaker. The size and proportions of the baby always seem to be a bit off. His movements are ever so slightly mechanical, rather than natural. His cry has a guttural, anguished tone to it that differs from the average baby’s cry. All of these decisions amount to a baby that elicits the same reaction in the audience as it does in its lead character – disconcertment.
Nightborn wears its messaging about postpartum depression firmly on its sleeve as Saga struggles to find happiness in a time in her life in which everyone is telling her she should be her most happy. Quiet moments of Saga’s anxiety, fatigue, and torment, juxtaposed to the joy experienced by her husband and family friends, will likely resonate strongly with anyone who has experienced emotional lows following pregnancy.
Independent of its horror inclinations, Bergholm’s film makes for a fascinating portrayal of the ‘ugly’ side of parental love. Saga’s relationship with her baby evolves over the course of the film and takes a number of interesting turns as she eventually uncovers proof that he is indeed not normal. Saga’s reaction to this realization is surprising to say the least, and gives new meaning to the term ‘unconditional love.’
As is the case with most horror movies, Nightborn ramps up the weird factor as its runtime progresses. But as the behavior of the baby only becomes increasingly strange, the lack of alarm experienced by Saga and Jon creates somewhat of a disconnect between the audience and the characters. Why is Saga seemingly okay with what she is seeing of her baby? How is Jon not more concerned by how both his wife and son are behaving? Most horror movies generate questions from their audience about why characters do a certain thing (e.g., everyone has, at some point, shouted at the screen, ‘Why did you do that?’ or ‘Get out of there!’ or ‘Don’t open that door!’). But Nightborn pushes this tendency of horror movies a tad too far, in turn depriving the film of authenticity in storytelling to match the authenticity of its themes.
Known for her role in Compartment No. 6, Seidi Haarla commands the screen with a stunning, deeply emotive lead performance in the film. Haarla gives her entire being over to the character of Saga, much like how Rose Byrne did with her character in If I Had Legs I’d Kick You. It’s a remarkably committed performance, one that should (but unfortunately will almost certainly not) receive awards consideration come the end of the year.
While compelling with its powerful leading actor and unsettling with its horror-fused take on postpartum depression, Nightburn mishandles the mythology underlying its strange and supernatural occurrences. Bergholm, alongside co-writer Ilja Rautsi, show a willingness to integrate Scandinavian mythology about trolls into their story from the get-go but never quite give this mythology the time and development it deserves. The film leaves much up for interpretation regarding how this mythology connects to Saga and Jon’s baby and, additionally, how it ties to Saga’s upbringing. In doing so, the film fails to capitalize on one of its most intriguing elements.
VERDICT: 6.5/10
Making its North American premiere at Fantasia 2026, Nightburn finds director and co-writer Hanna Bergholm crafting an unsettling and thought-provoking new psychological horror film that explores the intricacies of postpartum depression with a backdrop of Nordic mythology. Existing in the same lineage of films like If I Had Legs I’d Kick You and The Babadook in exploring the uglier complexities of motherhood, Bergholm’s film may not break new ground with its commentary on postpartum depression and the overlooked struggles of motherhood, but it compels through a superb, awards-worthy lead performance from Seidi Haarla and consistent delivery of unsettling, albeit not particularly terrifying, imagery and themes. The fascinating Scandinavian mythology underlying the film’s supernatural elements warrants further development, in turn leaving a multitude of intriguing questions unanswered. And yet Bergholm follows the brilliant Hatching with another film that packs a powerful message in a well-crafted piece of genre cinema.