Then Inthralled introduces the witchcraft elements, in addition to the hauntings, with some great cutaways to dark arts activity. Then everything takes a hairpin turn as a genuine slasher-style campfire story is introduced into the mix at the halfway mark, which knocks all your pre-conceived bowling pins down as to how this story will go.
The climax is incredible, especially as I didn’t see it coming, even though it was heading toward me like a runaway train. It gives you that sickening thud in your stomach when confronted with something truly horrifying, when it all comes down, that you only get from the best horror pictures. The final coda will cause some debate as to whether it is appropriate or not, with plenty of good arguments on both sides. My feeling is the choice made makes everything even more totally sick, as the kids like to say.
“…a truly vicious work of art in a brown paper wrapper, just watch your fingers once it is open, as it has bite.”
Inthralled is also a very accomplished hybrid of the horror and suspense genres. Bankston and Siegenthaler ensure the horror elements take center stage, but the story’s structure plays it more like a thriller than a jump-scare picture. Instead of having the suspense dilute the horror, here it amplifies the potency of the scary concepts at play. Fans of either genre will get a huge kick out of this, as it has the secret weapon of any good indie production: a completely killer screenplay.
Visually, the shot choices are competent with a lot of quality storytelling. There just aren’t many stylistic flares except when witches show up, at which time we get images that aim higher. While this increases the impact of the black magic flashes, the bread-and-butter visuals that sandwich them are the sort of plain that you get with the budget. The Arkansas locations are gorgeous, and every low-budget filmmaker should try to film there, as there is good production value growing right off the trees in those hills. Every drone shot that captures landscapes from above is jaw-dropping.
Why pick apart how bright the campfire burns when it is the story that will wrap around your bones and snap them in half. Inthralled is a truly vicious work of art in a brown paper wrapper, just watch your fingers once it is open, as it has bite.
"…a genius triple cheese burger treatment of the horror concept."
nthralled: A Haunting Masterpiece That Buries You in Supernatural Terror
Prepare to be ensnared by Inthralled, a supernatural thriller so exquisitely chilling it redefines the genre, hitting VOD on October 7 via Breaking Glass Pictures. This is no mere movie—it’s a heart-stopping plunge into a vortex of dread, masterfully orchestrated by first-time director Douglas Bankston, who co-wrote the script with the brilliant Kate Siegenthaler. Together, they’ve conjured a narrative so intricate, so emotionally and intellectually gripping, that it feels like a curse you willingly embrace. Add to this the haunting, pulse-pounding score by Dan Robinson, and Inthralled becomes an unforgettable symphony of terror that lingers like a shadow you can’t shake. As Breaking Glass CEO Rich Wolff aptly enthuses, this is “smart, chilling storytelling” poised to launch a gripping franchise, and it’s not hard to see why.
The story centers on Emily (Alanna Hamill Newton), a widow returning to her childhood home with her daughter Annalisa (Annie Sullivan), only to awaken a buried family curse that threatens to consume them. From the first note of Robinson’s score—a low, menacing thrum that coils around your nerves like fog—the film sets an unshakable tone of foreboding. His music doesn’t just accompany the scenes; it inhabits them, shifting from ghostly whispers to jarring crescendos that mirror the escalating horror. Each creak of the house, each flicker of a cursed shadow, feels amplified by Robinson’s masterful compositions, which weave dread and melancholy into a soundscape that’s as much a character as the cast itself. Whether it’s the delicate, mournful strings underscoring Emily’s grief or the dissonant stabs that herald the supernatural’s wrath, Robinson’s score is the film’s heartbeat, setting the tone for every shiver and scream.
Newton’s portrayal of Emily is nothing short of phenomenal, a portrait of a mother armored in sorrow yet fraying at the edges, her every gesture radiating raw, unspoken pain. Sullivan, as Annalisa, is a revelation, blending wide-eyed innocence with steely resolve as she uncovers a forbidden book that holds the key to either salvation or eternal doom. Their mother-daughter chemistry is electric, grounding the supernatural in a profoundly human core. Brad Adams, as Emily’s boyfriend Dillon, brings a magnetic blend of rugged handsomeness and vulnerability, his chiseled features and soulful eyes delivering a performance that’s as heart-wrenching as it is captivating. Kelcey Watson’s Reverend is a commanding presence, his strikingly handsome visage and piercing gaze lending a velvet-sheathed knife’s edge to his spiritual gravitas and sinister undertones.
And then there’s Philip Paz as Detective Rojas, the tormented, alcoholic officer whose soul bears the crushing weight of a gruesome crime scene from years past. Paz delivers a performance of such raw, visceral intensity that it feels like he’s carrying the ghosts of the victims in every haggard breath. His Rojas is a man hollowed out by guilt, haunted by memories of blood and screams he couldn’t silence, his failure to save those lost lives etched into every line of his weathered face. Paz’s portrayal is a masterclass in quiet devastation—his bloodshot eyes and trembling hands convey a man unraveling under the burden of unrelenting trauma, each swig of whiskey a futile attempt to drown the specters that claw at his mind. He’s not just a character; he’s a walking wound, making Rojas the film’s shattered, unforgettable heart.
The supporting cast is equally mesmerizing. Lilly Workman’s Marsha Cotton is a terrifying force, her every glance and hissed syllable conjuring goosebumps that cling like damp cloth, turning a secondary role into a nightmare icon. Madi Watkins, as the young Emily, imbues her tragic past with such heart-rending clarity that it casts a long, sorrowful shadow over the entire narrative. These performances don’t just elevate the film—they make it soar, each actor pouring their soul into characters that feel achingly real.
The scares in Inthralled are a masterclass in dread, amplified by Robinson’s score and Bankston’s deft direction. Forget cheap jump scares—this is slow-burn terror that creeps under your skin, from flickering lights that whisper ancestral secrets to reflections that twist into impossible horrors. The chills are relentless, each one landing like a cold hand on your spine, leaving you checking corners and questioning shadows. The twists at the end? They’re a breathtaking labyrinth of revelations, so cleverly woven they reframe the entire story without betraying a single spoiler. These turns are equal parts shocking and satisfying, leaving you gasping, grinning, and desperate to rewatch to catch every clue you missed.
Bankston and Siegenthaler’s script is a triumph, blending rich folklore with propulsive pacing, while Bankston’s direction paints every frame with palpable menace. With Robinson’s score as its sinister pulse, Inthralled is a flawless fusion of story, sound, and performance. This is the kind of film that redefines what a thriller can be, demanding your attention and rewarding your investment with a haunting that lingers long after the credits roll. Stream it on October 7, but be warned: once you’re inthralled, there’s no escape. Five stars—a modern horror masterpiece.