‘Nightborn’ review: Hanna Bergholm follows ‘Hatching’ with audacious motherhood horror

Dir: Hanna Bergholm. Finland/Lithuania/France/UK. 2026. 92mins

When Saga (Seidi Haarla) and her British husband Jon (Rupert Grint) make the move from the UK to the isolated rural Finnish home once owned by Saga’s grandmother, they hope it will be the perfect environment in which to raise a family. It certainly looks like an idyllic setting, with its timber porch and lush surrounding forest. But when Saga falls pregnant and has their first child, she becomes convinced something is very wrong. Finnish director Hanna Bergholm’s audacious second feature is likely to be divisive, but those who connect with its themes and rhythms will find a great deal to enjoy.

Striking visual language 

Bergholm made her debut in 2022 with Hatching, also a genre feature which dealt with issues of family, transformation and autonomy. Like that film, which premiered at Sundance and went on to a healthy festival and theatrical run, the English-language Nightborn uses body horror to explore its matriarchal themes, but is a far more gonzo, heightened, less nuanced affair. That could limit its broader appeal, but it should do well with adventurous genre distributors and audiences following its premiere in Berlin competition. The presence of Harry Potter star Rupert Grint may also pique further interest.

Saga is desperate to have a child – three, in fact – and Jon seems very happy with that plan. That grandma’s old house is dilapidated, with peeling wallpaper and a tree growing in the middle of the nursery floor, doesn’t faze them; they will make it into a warm and welcoming family home. Saga is happy to be near the forest; the domain, she says, of the trolls of Finnish legend (although the film shot in Lithuania). “As you shout, so will the forest answer.”

A passionate forest tryst between Saga and Jon, in which the trees seem to pulse and loom, results in pregnancy and, in a jump forward, the birth of their son, Kuura. Bergholm and cinematographer Pietari Peltola make it clear that something is immediately awry; the camera skulks towards the crib, the baby’s face hidden from view in an off-kilter angle. Sound design from Micke Nystrom – excellent throughout – underlays the baby’s breathing with a scratching rasp, its cries with an animalistic screech.

Saga is sure Kuura is not a normal child, and the screenplay from Bergholm and Hatching co-writer Ilja Rautsi places the audience squarely in her point of view. The boy’s back is hairy, his nails are sharp and his teeth draw blood as he latches on to Saga’s breast. Later, we watch as Kuura grows far more quickly than expected, is only satiated by animal blood and raw meat. As in Hatching, Bergholm makes good use of puppetry (again from Star Wars and Jurassic World animatronic designer Gustav Hoegen); the result is pleasingly retro, reminiscent of classic horror creations.

Yet everyone around Saga seems oblivious to these apparent abnormalities, attributing her feelings to post-partum psychosis. That includes Jon, well played as a benignly affable, bumbling, out-of-his-depth new father by Grint, who is making a name for himself in horror following roles in Knock At The Cabin and TV’s The Servant. Yet Haarla carries the film, becoming increasingly feral as motherhood takes its toll – a state also reflected in Kari Kankaanpaa’s production design, which sees the forest begin to encroach on the fracturing home.

There is a deliberate ambiguity here, a space carved out between horror and reality which passes comment on the pressures placed on new mothers, and the real-world difficulties in adapting to the presence of a newborn. Saga is exhausted, going through the motions, giving everything of herself to her child and losing her grip on who she was before. Jon works away from home much of the time, and has no idea what’s going on, but still feels he knows best for his son; as Jon begins to think that Saga may even pose a threat to Kuura, their marriage starts to crack under the strain. And Saga’s austere, distant mother (Pirkko Saisio) responds to her cries for help with stories of how difficult Saga was as a child.

These are, of course, easy and obvious points to make about the strains of raising a child and, as an allegory for new parenthood, Nightborn doesn’t cover any new ground. Thematically, it has much in common with myriad films from Rosemary’s Baby and The Omen to, more recently, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You and Die My Love. Nevertheless, Bergholm’s striking visual language and Harla’s propulsive central performance give the film its own entertaining resonance.