A Timeless Body Horror Story Gets a Strong Shot of Ozempic — Review

Imagine the thing you are most insecure about, the thing that you'd do anything to change. Now imagine if someone offered you a magical pill that could fix this problem. Would you be able to say no? Well, what if I told you that magical pill is full of the ashes of the dead? That's the concept of Saccharine. Written and directed by Australian-American filmmaker Natalie Erika James, Saccharine follows Hana (Midori Francis), a medical student obsessed with losing weight. But, no matter what she tries, no matter how determined she is, she can't get that scale to budge. Enter: a diet pill called Grey. As the weight literally melts off of Hana, the price of this new lease on life comes at a deadly cost.

'Saccharine' Puts a Dark Twist on Weight Loss and Dieting

Saccharine is far from a subtle film. It kicks off with a montage of the svelte and beautiful Alanya (Madeleine Madden) exercising on a spin bike intercut with shots of Hana binge-eating in reverse. The slo-mo of Alanya sweating and working out on her bike is as provocative as Hana tearing into candy and donuts. But while Alanya might enjoy her workout, Hana is riddled with guilt from binge-eating and quickly throws out all the junk food she's consumed before heading to her bullet journals and habit trackers to document her weight-loss journey. Unfortunately, due to her eating habits, her ideal weight of 60 kg (about 132 lb) is far out of reach.

When she runs into an old friend at a bar who has undergone her own weight-loss journey, Hana learns about a mysterious and expensive medication called Grey. As her friend claims, just a couple of pills and the weight will start disappearing. Even better? You can eat whatever you want. No diet change, no limiting yourself. Just one simple pill and everything is solved. It's Ozempic in a pill, but it works instantly, and you sacrifice nothing. Hana is shocked when the pill actually works. However, Hana comes to a surprising realization when she tests the pill and learns it doesn't contain some kind of super compound, but rather cremated human remains. She is horrified, but the results speak for themselves, and after years of dieting and disappointment, she's not horrified enough to stop.

'Saccharine' Puts Eating Disorder and Body Dysmorphia Front and Center as a Horror

James approaches the topic of eating disorders and body dysmorphia carefully, especially in the exposition of Saccharine. Hana is not only self-conscious of her own body, but social media tells her she should either completely embrace herself and perhaps even shame the idea of losing weight, or that she should lose so much weight that she can fit into a literal cookie-cutter shape. In our world of GLP-1's, it's not hard to imagine Hana's overwhelming joy when she finally finds something that works for her. In the scenes where we see her binge-eating, the process is more closely associated with self-harm than with indulging in a guilty pleasure. The food isn't nourishing to her, and it only leaves her feeling hollow afterward.

Initially, when she begins to see results, Hana is delighted. But no pill is without its side effects, and Grey has a drastic one. Slowly, she begins to feel a presence clinging to her; a malevolent spirit who personifies her shame and disorder is invisible but ever-present. One of the quirks of the ghost is that Hana can only see it through distorted reflections. It's a not-so-subtle nod to body dysmorphia, but one that works effectively. The way James balances the metaphor of the ghost haunting Hana with her own eating disorder is masterful, at least at first. It's these touches that really make Saccharine stand out beyond just the typical body horror.

Midori Francis Shines in the Spotlight of 'Saccharine'

Though Saccharine is far from perfect, one of the highlights of the horror film is undoubtedly Midori Francis' performance. Francis' heartbreaking portrayal is what makes Hana so relatable. Her frustrations are understandable and right there on the surface for us to see. Every small flicker of the expression on her face speaks volumes. Whether she's talking with her med school friends, who are happy to tell her that she's already perfect, or facing off against her mother, who has been critical of her body type her entire life, we know what Hana is thinking, and we know how difficult it is for her to simply be in her own skin.

The best part of the film is its understanding of the relatively new culture of embracing body positivity. While the concept is ultimately beneficial, it also understands that just because someone tells you to be proud of yourself doesn't mean that you will be. Hana can't see what her friends see in her, and their supportive comments feel more grating than encouraging. Their hearts are in the right place, but the film acknowledges that it's not really about what other people think; what you think about yourself matters most.

Francis is also fantastic at physically portraying the body horror of Saccharine. As the pill and the haunting slowly eat her alive, Hana's deterioration is not only physical, but mental. Though the use of a fat suit is polarizing, the film highlights both ends of the spectrum when it comes to weight gain and loss. Even when Hana loses weight, the horrors she is plagued with don't give her the happiness she expects. Her life isn't better, and Francis plays the delicate balance between Hana admiring her progress after so many years of failed attempts with the cold acknowledgment that something has gone very wrong.

'Saccharine' Is an Ambitious Film That Falls Apart in the Third Act

The powerful metaphors that James sets up, unfortunately, slowly fall apart by the final act of Saccharine. What starts as a sharp commentary mixed with perfect tones of horror about Hana's eating disorder quickly devolves into something more akin to fantastical horror. By leaning into the mythos and lore around the film, Saccharine sacrifices the commentary that makes this film so smart for shock value.

Coming in at 112 minutes, the last third of the film feels rather aimless. Conversations about eating disorders and her waning relationships with the people closest to her fall into the background as set dressing when it fully leans into the horror of her story. It's a pity, since the film is arrestingly effective until that point. As someone who has struggled with eating disorders all her life, Hana's story felt immensely nuanced and poignant to me. Her conflict with her self-image goes deeper than just her appearance; it pollutes every part of her personal life.

In trying to land a shocking and picture-perfect final moment, Saccharine loses its way in the final act. The film abandons its nuance and the potential for a truly unsettling and uncomfortable ending. It's a shame because the brilliance of Saccharine's first two acts almost manages to outweigh the weakness of the ending. Sadly, it's not enough, and the final moments seem to show that perhaps James didn't know how to end the story without leaving the viewer heartbroken by the sad realities of this problem that plagues millions of people.

Chock-full of good scares and eerie moments, as a whole, Saccharine is a memorable and dynamic story. It takes a new look at body horror beyond the grotesque, and Francis gives Hana the portrayal she deserves. However, the film is far from perfect, and although it might have been destined for greatness, Saccharine doesn't do enough to complete the metaphor. Instead, it ends up in an odd space between psychological thriller and straight-up jump-scare horror that unfortunately drags down an otherwise compelling film.

Saccharine premiered at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.