Category: Film Reviews

Obsession (2026) Review

★★★★☆ (4/5)

🦇🦇🦇 🦇 Terrifying

🩸🩸🩸Extreme

🔴 Not Animal Safe – Significant animal harm, cruelty or death.

💀 Body Horror

🧠 Psychological Horror

Some horror films flirt with uncomfortable ideas before retreating to safer ground. Obsession does the opposite. It introduces an unsettling premise, commits to it without hesitation, and follows it to a conclusion that left me genuinely stunned. For a horror fan who can often predict where a story is heading, that is a rare achievement.

At the heart of the film is an outstanding performance from Inde Navarrette, who carries the emotional weight of increasingly surreal and terrifying events. Her physical performance is particularly remarkable. Horror often relies on makeup, effects or sudden shocks to unsettle an audience, but Obsession understands that movement itself can become frightening. The way bodies move, pause and occupy space creates an uncanny atmosphere that lingers long after the credits roll.

The film also balances genuine dread with moments of wonderfully absurd humour. One memorable supporting character delivers supernatural guidance with the weary efficiency of someone helping a customer return a faulty toaster rather than confronting unimaginable horror. That strange blend of the mundane and the terrifying gives the film a distinct personality.

One of the aspects I found most compelling is that Obsession refuses to soften the implications of its own premise. Where some contemporary horror films hesitate just as they approach their darkest ideas, writer-director Curry Barker pushes forward. The result is a film that respects its audience enough to let them sit with discomfort rather than offering easy reassurance.

There are, however, a few elements that prevented this from becoming a perfect score. Bear is a frustratingly passive protagonist whose decisions become increasingly difficult to defend, while one key relationship never felt entirely convincing. Those issues never derail the film, but they occasionally weakened my emotional investment.

One possible reading of Obsession is as a form of incel horror—not because it centres online ideology, but because it explores the dangers of entitlement, obsession and the refusal to accept another person’s autonomy. Yet the film is equally interested in identity, agency and the terrifying possibility of becoming trapped within your own existence. It leaves enough ambiguity for audiences to draw their own conclusions, which only makes it more rewarding to discuss afterwards.

I also have to acknowledge the animal content. As readers of Fear in Flight know, animal welfare matters to me, and the film includes the off-screen death of a cat. While the harm itself is not shown, the scene—and later imagery connected to it—was distressing enough that it cost the film one star.

Even so, Obsession is one of the year’s most memorable horror films. It surprised me, unsettled me, made me laugh in places I never expected, and delivered an ending I genuinely did not see coming. That combination is increasingly rare.

I suspect this will remain in my top five horror films of the year.

Fear in Flight Rating: ★★★★☆

Animal Safety Guide

⚠️ Contains the off-screen death of a cat and later imagery involving its remains. Viewers sensitive to animal harm should be aware before watching.

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Good Boy (2025): Trauma, Loyalty, and the Horror of Home

⭐⭐⭐⭐☆ Overall Rating

🦇🦇🦇 Fear Factor

🩸 Low Gore

🐶 Hero Dog
👻 Spooky Witness
⚠️ Pet Peril

🐾 Animal-Safe Badge Awarded

Good Boy (2025) is a slow-burn horror film that understands fear as something lived rather than witnessed. Told largely through the perspective of a dog, the film transforms domestic space into a site of emotional unease, where inherited trauma lingers in silence and routine. For Fear in Flight, a platform drawn to atmosphere-driven and ethically attentive horror, Good Boy stands out as a meditation on loyalty, family wounds, and the unsettling intimacy of home.

At the centre of the film is Indy, whose performance grounds the story in instinct and emotional awareness. Without dialogue or overt emotional cues, Indy communicates through behaviour—alert stillness, hesitation, protective closeness. The film wisely avoids anthropomorphising him, instead allowing the audience to interpret meaning the same way dog owners do in real life. Through Indy, viewers are aligned with a consciousness that feels everything but understands very little, heightening the film’s sense of unease. This perspective is further contextualised by the involvement of producer Kari Fischer, who is also Indy’s owner—an ethical reassurance that lends weight to the film’s animal-centred approach.

The house itself functions as a central metaphor for family trauma. Narrow hallways, locked doors, and dimly lit rooms suggest emotional containment rather than safety. The past is not explained through exposition but embedded into the environment. Sounds carry weight; silence feels loaded. The house becomes an echo chamber for unresolved pain, shaping behaviour and emotional responses even in moments of apparent calm. In classic domestic horror fashion, familiarity becomes a trap rather than a comfort.

One of the film’s most resonant elements is its portrayal of the bond between dogs and their human companions. Good Boy recognises that dogs are deeply attuned to the emotional temperature of a household. As a dog owner, this depiction feels especially truthful. Dogs sense tension, fear, and instability long before it is acknowledged aloud. Indy’s loyalty is not sentimentalised or heroic; it is instinctive and constant, even when something feels deeply wrong. The film quietly acknowledges that animals are not passive observers of human dysfunction—they live inside it with us.

That bond is tested uncomfortably in moments of neglect, particularly when Indy is chained outside in the rain. This scene is difficult to watch, and intentionally so. Rather than feeling gratuitous, it reinforces the film’s broader themes of emotional abandonment and control. The decision to isolate Indy physically mirrors the emotional isolation present within the household itself. For animal-aware viewers, the moment introduces ethical discomfort, exposing how trauma and neglect often manifest through everyday decisions rather than overt cruelty. Indy’s quiet endurance in this moment underscores the vulnerability of animals within human systems of power and dependence.

Final Thoughts

Atmosphere is where Good Boy truly excels. The film relies on restraint rather than spectacle, allowing dread to accumulate gradually. Long takes linger just long enough to become uncomfortable, shadows feel deliberate, and the sound design prioritises absence over excess. This slow-burn approach mirrors the nature of generational trauma itself—rarely explosive, rarely resolved, but persistently present, shaping experience over time.

Ultimately, Good Boy (2025) is a domestic horror film that understands fear as an emotional inheritance. By filtering its story through a dog’s perspective, it exposes the unseen ways trauma permeates the home, affecting even those who cannot name or escape it. Indy’s remarkable performance, the symbolic weight of the house, and the film’s quietly devastating atmosphere combine to create a horror experience that lingers. For Fear in Flight, Good Boy is horror at its most personal —not about monsters that invade the home, but about what has always lived there, and who remains loyal enough to feel it.

🐾 Animal Safety Guide

Good Boy is a dog-centred horror film that places animal perception and vulnerability at the heart of its narrative.

  • No graphic animal violence is shown
  • Emotional distress and neglect are present
  • A dog is chained outside in the rain (non-graphic, but emotionally confronting)
  • Animal fear is implied through behaviour and atmosphere rather than harm
  • The film treats animal suffering as meaningful, not exploitative
  • Animal-sensitive viewers may find certain moments upsetting due to the emotional weight placed on neglect and isolation, even though the film avoids sensationalised cruelty.

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