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Natalie Erika James turns a deadly weight-loss craze into a hungry ghost in Saccharine

Martha O'Hara

The first thing Saccharine offers is a colour. A submarine green, the shade of supermarket produce bags lit from behind, fills the frame, and a young woman lies half-buried in it as though the camera had found her in a tide pool. She is not drowning in water. She is adrift in refuse, in packaging, in the plastic skin of everything she has swallowed and everything that has been sold to her. Natalie Erika James has always understood that horror lives in texture before it lives in plot, and her latest feature makes appetite itself the thing that glistens.

The film follows Hana, a lovelorn medical student whose body has become a ledger of measurement and shame. When an obscure weight-loss craze promises to dissolve the flesh she cannot forgive, she follows it past the point of sense and begins to eat human ashes. The ritual works, after a fashion. It also opens a door. The person whose remains she consumes does not depart quietly, and the haunting at the centre of the film is entirely literal, a manifestation of the folk figure known across several Asian traditions as the hungry ghost, a creature condemned to eat forever and never be full.

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Midori Francis carries almost every frame, and the casting reads as a thesis rather than a marquee. An actor associated with warmer, quicker registers, she plays Hana as someone starving in plain sight, all composed surfaces over an interior that is quietly caving in. The performance asks the audience to sit inside a disordered relationship to hunger without the reassurance of villainy or melodrama, and Francis holds that discomfort steadily, letting the supernatural arrive as an extension of appetite rather than an interruption of it.

James remains one of the more disciplined stylists working in grief-shaped horror. Her debut feature, Relic, treated dementia as a house slowly digesting its inhabitants, and her studio assignment Apartment 7A reworked a maternal nightmare with the same attention to bodies that betray from within. Saccharine carries that preoccupation to the dinner table. Where a lesser film would stage its scares as ambush, James builds dread out of light and surface, out of the sickly sweetness the title promises and the rot underneath it, so that the horror feels less like something entering Hana than something she has been cultivating all along.

The look is the film’s strongest argument. James and her cinematographer favour a palette of clinical whites bleeding into bruised greens and blacks, food photographed until it turns menacing, interiors that feel vacuum-sealed. Meals are shot with the tactile intensity of a horror set piece, every glisten and grain magnified until sweetness curdles into threat. It is production design as diagnosis, a world so saturated with the language of consumption that Hana’s unravelling looks less like madness than like fluency.

The hungry ghost turns out to be a shrewd vehicle for a story about body dysmorphia and the machinery of thinness culture. To consume the dead in pursuit of a smaller body is to literalise the way disordered eating hollows out the person it claims to improve. The film’s imagery of plastic, waste and packaged food places that private torment inside a wider economy of appetite, one that sells emptiness as aspiration. What lingers is not the ghost itself but the suggestion that Hana was already being eaten before anything supernatural arrived.

Whether the metaphor earns its weight is the film’s open question. A supernatural curse is a risky frame for an eating disorder, and Saccharine flirts with turning a real affliction into folklore, letting the beauty of its images soften the harm they depict. The festival reception has been respectful rather than rapturous, and the picture does not yet prove that James can extend her command of mood into something that fully resolves. For long stretches the atmosphere does the arguing while the story marks time, and viewers wary of body-horror built on self-harm may find the premise more punishing than illuminating.

Midori Francis as Hana in the horror film Saccharine (2026)
Midori Francis in Saccharine (2026)

Alongside Francis, the cast includes Danielle Macdonald as Josie, Madeleine Madden as Alanya, Joseph Baldwin as Ryan and Robert Taylor as Travis, with Emily Milledge and Lisa Crittenden among the supporting players. James wrote the film as well as directing it. Saccharine is an Australian, Finnish and American co-production assembled by Carver Films and the genre outfit XYZ Films, with backing from Screen Australia and the streaming service Stan.

Saccharine had its world premiere at the Sundance Film Festival and travelled through the Berlin International Film Festival and the Sydney Film Festival before opening in US cinemas on 22 May 2026. It reaches AMC+ and Shudder in the United States and the United Kingdom on 24 July 2026, and runs 113 minutes. For a film about a woman consumed by what she consumes, the move onto a streaming menu is its own quiet joke.

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