Movies

When Work Becomes Survival: The Corporate Office as Horror

A dark comedy imagines the modern workplace as a site of fear, rivalry and fragile belonging. Corporate Retreat turns team bonding into a story about power and professional identity.
Molly Se-kyung

At a time when many workers are rethinking ambition, loyalty and burnout, Corporate Retreat channels those anxieties into horror. The film transforms a corporate getaway into a closed arena where competition overrides trust, suggesting that the pressure to perform can erode not only careers but the sense of self tied to them.

The film, directed by Aaron Fisher and co-written with Kerri Lee Romeo, positions its horror within the rituals of corporate bonding. Trust exercises, motivational speeches and performance metrics are transformed into mechanisms of control. What begins as a carefully curated escape from the office becomes a closed system in which professional ambition is weaponized.

The ensemble cast includes Alan Ruck, Odeya Rush, Ashton Sanders, Rosanna Arquette, Sasha Lane, Zion Moreno and Tyler Alvarez among others. Their characters represent different rungs of contemporary corporate aspiration: the rising star, the cautious observer, the seasoned executive. As alliances fracture, the film uses genre conventions to examine how easily collegiality collapses under pressure.

Visually and tonally, Corporate Retreat aligns itself with a wave of horror that blends satire with bodily threat. Comparisons have been drawn to recent films that juxtapose luxury environments with cruelty, yet here the focus is less on class spectacle and more on professional identity. The horror emerges not simply from gore, but from recognition. Many viewers will recognize the language of corporate wellness programs and the implicit demand for total commitment.

Corporate Retreat
Corporate Retreat

The decision to premiere at the Brussels International Fantastic Film Festival situates the film within an international circuit that often champions genre as social commentary. Festivals devoted to fantastic cinema have increasingly become spaces where satire and horror intersect with political and economic critique. Corporate Retreat’s debut in that context signals an intention to be read as more than a simple shock narrative.

At 89 minutes, the film maintains a brisk pace, reflecting contemporary audience expectations shaped by streaming habits and shorter-form storytelling. In an era when viewers toggle between platforms and formats, tightly constructed genre films often find renewed life both in theaters and online, where word-of-mouth circulates rapidly across digital communities.

The film’s emphasis on young professionals is also telling. As workplaces evolve under hybrid schedules and constant connectivity, younger workers often navigate unstable hierarchies and blurred boundaries between personal and professional life. By literalizing the threat of corporate failure as physical annihilation, Corporate Retreat amplifies fears that are already ambient: the fear of being evaluated, replaced or exposed.

Horror has long provided a vocabulary for discussing systems of power. In the post-financial-crisis era, that vocabulary has expanded to include corporate language itself as a source of menace. Retreats, seminars and leadership workshops promise cohesion but often mask competition. In Corporate Retreat, that tension becomes the engine of the plot.

Whether experienced in a cinema or later on streaming platforms, the film reflects a broader shift in genre storytelling. Contemporary horror increasingly situates its monsters within everyday institutions rather than distant fantasies. The boardroom, like the haunted house before it, becomes a container for collective unease.

By transforming professional ambition into a survival game, Corporate Retreat participates in an ongoing cultural conversation about work, identity and the cost of belonging. As audiences continue to interrogate the structures that shape their daily lives, genre cinema remains one of the most direct ways to explore those anxieties—sometimes by turning them into nightmares that feel uncomfortably close to reality.

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