Men (2022)

Men is the kind of horror that doesn’t just startle you—it gets under your skin with the steady confidence of a filmmaker who knows exactly how dread should sound, look, and linger. Alex Garland turns an idyllic English countryside retreat into a waking fever dream, and Jessie Buckley anchors it with a performance so raw and intelligent you feel every uneasy breath of her attempt to heal. The film’s eerie, controlled visuals and Rory Kinnear’s uncanny presence create a looping, fairy-tale logic where the atmosphere is the monster as much as anything in the woods. It’s bold, provocative, and deliberately extreme—so if you want cozy scares, look elsewhere—but if you’re up for a challenging, unforgettable nightmare that has something to say, this one is worth the trip.

Men is clearly aiming for an art-horror parable about grief, trauma, and the way misogyny can feel inescapable, and on a craft level it often lands: the countryside is gorgeous, the sound design is unnerving, and Jessie Buckley sells the emotional fallout. The problem is that Alex Garland leans so hard into symbolism and repetition that the story can feel like it’s scolding you instead of pulling you in, with pacing that drifts and a finale that’s deliberately extreme and more “what does it mean?” than “what just happened?” If you like cerebral, allegorical horror that prioritizes mood and metaphor over clean answers, you’ll probably admire it even when it frustrates you. If you want a tight thriller, clear thematic payoff, or you’re sensitive to graphic nudity, violence, and domestic abuse material, this is very likely to feel like a punishing, pretentious slog rather than a satisfying nightmare.