‘Sleep No More’ review: A decaying Indonesian wig factory hides a dark secret in Edwin’s outré horror

Dir: Edwin. Indonesia/Singapore/Japan/Germany/France. 2026. 96mins

In a decaying Indonesian wig factory, workers are encouraged to forgo their basic human needs – including sleep – to increase their output, while a mysterious evil entity seems to stalk the facility. Premiering as a Berlin Special Screening, Sleep No More sees Indonesian director Edwin combine sharp social commentary with a particularly outré strand of horror to entertaining, if ultimately uneven, effect.

Plenty of pulpy fun

Like Edwin’s previous films, including the Locarno-winning Vengeance Is Mine, All Others Pay Cash (2021), Berlin Competition title Postcards From The Zoo (2012) and 2024’s Netflix thriller Borderless Fog, Sleep No More offers a critique of people imprisoned by circumstances beyond their control – and here, particularly, the capitalist machine. This is, however, the first time he’s leaned full-tilt into genre, and the film’s potent blend of out-there effects, creepy possession narrative and social commentary should do well on home soil (where the Indonesian title translates to the more literal ‘Hair Factory Monster’).

Other festivals could take notice, especially those with a genre focus or strand, but it may prove too localised to make much headway elsewhere – although the presence as co-producer of acclaimed Singaporean filmmaker Anthony Chen (who is playing Berlin Competition with We Are All Strangers) could help attract attention.

After the death of their mother, sisters Putri (Rachel Amanda) and Ida (Lutesha) return to the Indonesian factory where she worked to find out the truth about what happened. Ironically named ‘The Evergreen Company’, and based on a real-life factory in Bali which supplies wigs to Broadway theatres, it’s a looming, faceless, rundown building populated by drone-like workers, who simmer human hair in huge cauldrons underneath sickly fluorescent lights as rows of mannequin heads look on. They are overseen by imposing, wig-wearing manager Maryati (Didik Nini Thook), who gives her staff a 15-minute daily break for exercise and encourages them with over-the-Tannoy messages like “Keep your spirits up for the future.”

Spirits – or more specifically demons – will rear their heads later in proceedings, as Putri and Ida start work at the factory to repay their mother’s substantial debts to Maryati. The fact that this money was used to give Ida an impressive education hits at a tension between the sisters that is never fully explored. While Putri believes that their mother committed suicide, Ida thinks she was possessed; an idea that gains credence as more of the overworked factory staff – who, seemingly in thrall to the enigmatic Maryati, are being encouraged to forgo sleep to work harder and receive bonuses – begin to exhibit bizarre behaviour.

Throw in Putri and Ida’s younger brother Bona (Iqbaal Ramadhan), who has the uncanny ability to heal himself from any injury, including the loss of limbs, and is on the run from debtors of his own, and Sleep No More grows in supernatural intensity as it progresses. In a marked departure from the observational tone of Edwin’s previous films, the filmmaker and cinematographer Akiko Ashizawa throw us into the centre of the maelstrom, utilising disorienting close-ups, effective make-up and often-gory in-your-face practical effects.

While its use of hair as a recurring motif is reminiscent of Japanese horrors like Ringu and The Grudge, it doesn’t trade so much in creeping dread as in entertaining shlock, which Edwin ratchets up until a frenzied, bloodied climax brings things to a propulsive, if somewhat convoluted, head.

The film is – just about – grounded by performances which lean into the mind-numbing humdrum of life in the factory; the workers are sleep-deprived zombies, going about their tasks without much expression or interaction, only springing into grotesque life when the demon takes hold. We don’t learn much about them beyond the factory walls – their entire lives are here, save for the snatches of sleep they do get in depressing employee dorms – and Maryati is presented as a kind of benignly malevolent cult leader, luring her workers further into the fold until they are worth nothing but their labour.

Aside from the demons and those creepy mannequin heads, the real horror here is, of course, the economic slavery in which these ordinary, hardworking people find themselves trapped. It’s an obvious point to make but Sleep No More makes it well, with plenty of pulpy fun along the way.