Review: Nightborn Explores Finnish Folklore and Motherhood With Uneven Results

Nightborn blends Finnish folklore with supernatural motherhood in Hannah Bergholm’s latest horror film.

Finnish filmmaker Hanna Bergholm returns to the world of folklore with Nightborn, a slow-burning supernatural drama that explores motherhood, family, and the unsettling weight of inherited myths. After earning acclaim for Hatching, Bergholm once again blends domestic horror with Nordic folklore, this time through the story of a young couple whose hopes of starting a family unravel into something far more disturbing.

The film stars Seidi Haarla as Saga and Rupert Graves as John, a husband and wife who travel to the remote Finnish region where Saga grew up as they prepare to welcome their first child. From the moment they arrive, it’s clear Saga shares a deeply rooted connection to the land and its traditions. That connection takes on new meaning after the birth of their baby, whose increasingly strange behavior forces the couple to question whether they’re dealing with an ordinary child or something tied to the ancient folklore surrounding the area.

As Saga spends more time caring for the infant, the burden falls almost entirely on her shoulders. John does his best to be present and supportive, but the growing mystery surrounding their child begins to strain both parents in different ways. The result is a story that uses supernatural horror to explore the anxieties, isolation, and emotional toll that can accompany new parenthood.

Like many recent horror films centered on motherhood, Nightborn examines postpartum fears and the expectations society places on women after childbirth. While those themes remain relevant, they also cover familiar ground. The film offers its own folkloric framework, but much of its emotional foundation has been explored in several genre entries over the past decade.

Where Nightborn succeeds is in the performances. Seidi Haarla carries much of the film’s emotional weight, portraying Saga’s growing fear and uncertainty with a grounded performance that keeps the story engaging even during its quieter moments. Rupert Graves provides a believable counterpart as a husband attempting to support his wife while confronting circumstances he cannot fully understand.

The atmosphere is another strength. Bergholm continues to demonstrate a strong command of mood, using Finland’s forests and rural landscapes to create an ever-present sense of unease. The folklore elements gradually build throughout the narrative, giving the film an identity rooted in regional mythology rather than relying solely on conventional supernatural scares.

The biggest obstacle for Nightborn is its payoff. The film steadily builds toward what appears to be a significant revelation, but the final act never fully delivers the spectacle or emotional impact that its setup suggests. While the conclusion remains consistent with the story’s intimate focus, it lacks the dramatic release that the preceding tension promises.

Even so, it’s easy to understand why Nightborn found an audience on the festival circuit. Its commitment to atmosphere, strong lead performances, and Finnish folklore give it a distinctive voice, even if the narrative ultimately doesn’t break much new ground.

Rating 2.5/5

Nightborn offers an effective blend of Nordic folklore and domestic horror, anchored by committed performances and an unsettling atmosphere. While its exploration of motherhood and postpartum anxiety is thoughtfully presented, a restrained final act keeps the film from reaching the heights its premise suggests.