I first learned about Son of Sara while scrolling through social media. It was December 2025, and the film had just premiered at Toronto’s Blood in the Snow Film Festival. Something about the poster immediately caught my attention: the striking combination of the vibrant red with bold yellow letters, the image of a woman screaming, and the silhouette of a demon standing outside a farmhouse. It instantly transported me back to the Blockbuster days, when all you had to decide whether to rent a movie was its cover art. I was hooked.
Several months passed after that first encounter, but my curiosity never faded. Now, after finally watching the film, one thing is certain: my instincts were right.
There are countless things I could praise about this wonderfully twisted indie horror film. There’s something undeniably strange yet inviting about it. It’s the kind of movie you probably wouldn’t want to watch with your parents, yet at the same time, it’s exactly the kind of movie they should watch. It’s unapologetically queer, disgusting, campy, emotionally honest, and incredibly entertaining.
Writer, director, editor, and producer Houston Bone earned all my respect with this film. Son of Sara is clearly his passion project, and it shows in every frame. He has crafted a film that feels bold, compelling, and remarkably relevant. His direction is confident and assured, allowing every moment of horror, vulnerability, and carnage to land with maximum impact. Even more impressive is how polished the final product feels. Despite being shot in just 13 days, Son of Sara never feels small or constrained by its independent budget.
The film also introduced me to the incredibly talented Chloe Van Landschoot (From), who delivers a phenomenal performance as Sara, a heavily pregnant woman in her final trimester.
From the opening minutes, the film presents pregnancy in a brutally honest way, with relentless morning sickness, disturbing cravings, vivid nightmares, and constant physical and emotional exhaustion. Thankfully, Sara isn’t alone. Her girlfriend, Carol (Tymika Tafari), becomes her emotional anchor, offering unconditional love, support, and reassurance through every terrifying moment.
As Sara’s due date approaches, her nightmares intensify and her cravings become increasingly disturbing. Bone creates an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia inside the couple’s apartment, making Sara feel trapped not only by her surroundings but by her own body. Seeking a brief escape, she unexpectedly reconnects with someone from her past: the baby’s father.
At that point, many of the questions surrounding Sara and Carol’s relationship begin to find their answers. We truly need more Carols in this world. Throughout the first act, I found myself believing I was watching a heartfelt love story with horror elements woven into the realities of pregnancy and emotional vulnerability. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The second half snowballs into something much different. With the arrival of Troy (Garrett Hnatiuk), long-buried tensions begin to surface, threatening everything Sara and Carol have built together over the previous months. When Troy convinces Sara to spend the night at his family farm, the film reaches its point of no return. You’ll find yourself wanting to yell at the screen, begging her not to go.
But we signed up for a horror movie, and that’s exactly what Son of Sara delivers. The moment Sara steps onto Troy’s isolated farm and meets his mother, Agnes (Jane Moffat), the atmosphere shifts dramatically. From that moment forward, the film descends into increasingly chaotic, shocking, and unforgettable territory.
The addition of Troy and Agnes to the story pushes the film fully into its camp sensibilities. Their presence leads to some deeply unsettling, bizarre, and wonderfully messed-up moments. While they’re meant to make you feel constantly in danger, it’s their unapologetic queerness, sinister charisma, and almost hypnotic presence that make them just as captivating as our protagonist. Garrett Hnatiuk and Jane Moffat fully embrace the film’s twisted tone, creating two unforgettable horror villains.
The best part about Son of Sara? It still has plenty of tricks up its sleeve. It combines impressive practical effects, prosthetics, puppetry, and committed physical performances to create some truly remarkable sequences. Chloe Van Landschoot fearlessly leads many of the film’s most disturbing moments, balancing vulnerability, charm, resilience, and full-fledged scream queen energy.
I’m grateful that films like Son of Sara come along every once in a while to remind us that some of the most exciting voices in horror are emerging from the independent scene. The film introduced me to Houston Bone, a Canadian filmmaker whose talent, ambition, and unique perspective deserve to be in the spotlight. If this is what he can accomplish with a modest budget and a limited shooting schedule, I can’t wait to see what he does next.
Son of Sara opens in select cities on July 10. Don’t miss it.
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