The Twin (2022)

The Twin earns its chills the old-fashioned way: by rooting its horror in the raw, intimate ache of grief, then letting the Finnish countryside’s stark beauty and quiet isolation turn that ache into something unnervingly supernatural. Taneli Mustonen keeps the tone icy and restrained, building dread through small, unsettling shifts in behavior and the creeping sense that the locals know more than they’re saying, while Teresa Palmer anchors it all with a performance that feels lived-in and fiercely maternal. It’s less a splatter ride than a slow-burn mystery with a spiritual aftertaste, the kind that invites you to lean in and second-guess what you’re seeing. If you prefer your horror loud and relentless, this may feel too measured—but if you like atmospheric, emotionally grounded scares, it’s a haunting trip worth taking.

The Twin wants to be a grief-soaked, slow-burn possession mystery where a devastated mother can’t tell whether she’s fighting the supernatural or her own unraveling, and that’s a solid idea on paper. It does build an eerie, wintry mood and Teresa Palmer commits, but the film’s tension tends to drift rather than escalate, and the Finnish setting feels more like a backdrop than a weapon. When it finally has to cash in its mysteries, the payoff and reveal land with a bit of a thud—more confusion than chilling inevitability. If you like atmospheric dread and don’t need a punchy, satisfying ending, you may get enough out of it; if you’re here for sharp pacing and a big horror “aha,” this one will likely waste your time.