“The curses we inherit are not our fault. What they become is our responsibility.”
Every horror movie is about confronting trauma of some kind. Sometimes – usually – it’s the actual, real-life source of that trauma like a masked killer, a ghost, or a monster in the woods. Other times, it means confronting a traumatic presence from within. But what if the thing pursuing you is a malevolent combination of both?
From The Brood to The Babadook and several points in between, there are countless examples of horror using a physical manifestation of trauma tormenting their protagonists. In Tim Riedel’s Ancestral Beasts, Elyse (Morgan Holmstrom) is processing, or attempting to process, the recent death of her mother by suicide. She is doing so with the aid of her sister Nikki (Darla Contois), but the relationship is strained at best and really shows the toll that mental health struggles can take on both the sufferer and their caregivers. She’s alienated herself from everyone else, has very likely torpedoed her job, and decides to pack up and relocate from the city to her late aunt’s remote cabin. Before she even walks in the door, she has a run-in with her neighbor Max (Josh Strait) in an encounter that seems ripped from one of those videos that seem to get pushed to my For You page on a social media platform where someone gets harassed for simply existing. He’s well-meaning, though, and once he finds out that Elyse is the descendant of her auntie, becomes almost too familiar and welcoming. But then Elyse’s trauma and emotional baggage start to take on a physical presence in the form of a bug-like creature that lives beneath the floors of her auntie’s house. It begins to encroach on and consume anyone that happens into Elyse’s sphere, while Elyse simultaneously pushes them away while attempting to convince them that it’s real.
What sets Ancestral Beasts apart from other trauma-centric horrors is the personal nature of the film to Riedel. Not to say that those other films aren’t personal to their creators – quite the opposite – but Riedel’s life and experiences, including being the child of a Sixties Scoop survivor who was also diagnosed with bipolar disorder, are unique to him and his film is unique from everything else as a result. After having travelled the world telling other people’s stories in film, it should be celebrated whenever an artist is able to fully realize their vision in this way.
While it may be a product of the screener I watched being an early print, I felt that at some points Ancestral Beasts felt a little too clinical and came across as too much of a PSA, even for a movie with some very cool and effective design for the creature. There’s a powerful message behind the idea of a dark and malicious presence living in the basement of a family home, but it’s not quite as fully-fleshed out, so to speak. But even underneath, there’s a striking realism to Elyse as portrayed by Holmstrom, especially as she spars with Nikki and the way she works through her trauma.
Ancestral Beasts is a deeply personal project in all ways for Tim Riedel and is an important reminder the importance of seeing yourself both in the art you create and, for his audiences, in the art you enjoy as well. It’s a beautiful of how horror can help us understand the real effects of trauma and mental illness. And with it, Riedel has made a space for himself in a long legacy of Indigenous storytelling and creativity.
The Fantasia International Film Festival emanates from Montreal, Quebec, Canada and runs from July 16 to August 2, 2026 and celebrates its 30th edition this year. Ticket and lineup information can be found on the Festival website and check out our coverage here on Biff Bam Pop! over the next few weeks.
