Grimmfest 2025 Review: Itch!

Bari Kang’s Itch! turns viral panic into a claustrophobic study of fear, control, and human collapse at Grimmfest 2025.

It’s rare that a horror film today feels like it’s trying something fresh. We live in a genre built on reinvention—remixes of remixes, ideas passed through generations of blood, fear, and imitation. So when Bari Kang’s Itch! came across the Grimmfest 2025 slate, I was curious. Kang’s prior work has leaned more into action and crime, but here he trades fists for fear, delivering a tight, single-location virus horror that uses paranoia and human fragility to drive the terror home.

Let’s clear something up: Itch! isn’t a zombie movie. Though it flirts with infection and regeneration, this isn’t a shuffling undead story—it’s a viral outbreak film in the spirit of The Crazies or Pontypool. Kang roots the horror not in monsters, but in the breakdown of human reason when faced with the unknown. When panic spreads faster than the pathogen, the scariest thing in the room isn’t the virus—it’s us.

Kang stars as Jay, a father trying to protect his daughter (played by Monica De Oliveira) amid a rapidly escalating outbreak. The supporting cast—including Patrick Michael Valley, Douglas Stirling, and Ximena Uribe—fit seamlessly into the claustrophobic setup, portraying ordinary people forced to question reality as information collapses around them. The film uses surveillance footage, CCTV, and smart camera tricks to stretch the world beyond its walls, giving the illusion of a larger epidemic while keeping the action grounded.

What Kang nails is the human horror—fear, confusion, entitlement, and the stubborn refusal to trust science or history. It’s a theme that resonates beyond the film itself, mirroring the very real mistakes societies continue to make in the face of crisis. The writing taps into that tension effectively, even if the execution sometimes struggles to match the ambition.

Performance-wise, Kang’s portrayal of Jay occasionally plays too cool. For a man caught in chaos and loss, the calm stoicism undercuts moments that could have hit harder emotionally. Still, the dynamic between Jay and his daughter carries weight, especially as their fractured relationship becomes another casualty of survival.

Visually, Itch! makes smart use of limited resources. The effects are modest but effective, and the single-location format—always a risky move—mostly works due to solid pacing and narrative restraint. For indie filmmakers, it’s a testament to what can be done with focus and clever framing rather than excess.

The film’s biggest strength lies in its ideas. The fear of contagion, misinformation, and the slow collapse of trust among ordinary people feels painfully relevant. But where Itch! occasionally falters is in pushing those ideas to a full emotional crescendo—it’s intelligent, thoughtful, and timely, but sometimes feels like it’s holding back when it could go for the jugular.

Still, it’s an admirable entry in modern viral horror. Smartly written, socially aware, and laced with tension, Itch! proves Kang has an eye for human psychology and political undercurrent. The scares may not always land, but the ideas do—and that’s what lingers.

2.5 out of 5. A grounded, reflective slice of viral horror that values ideas over excess. Not the loudest scream at Grimmfest 2025, but one that echoes long after.