SXSW 2026 Review: Bagworm Delivers Gritty Midnight Body Horror With Punk Attitude

Peter Falls stars as a drifting salesman whose festering injury leads to disturbing consequences in Oliver Bernsen’s SXSW horror feature Bagworm.

SXSW 2026 Review: Bagworm

In a horror landscape increasingly dominated by clean, minimalist aesthetics and the polished sheen of so-called “elevated horror,” Bagworm arrives at SXSW 2026 as something entirely different. The feature from director Oliver Bernsen, written by Henry Bernsen, embraces the grimy, late-night sensibilities of underground genre cinema—channeling the spirit of the exploitation and body-horror films that once thrived in midnight programming blocks and VHS shelves.

The story centers on Carol, played with unsettling commitment by Peter Falls, a sexually frustrated drifter whose life is already circling the drain before the film’s central incident even begins. Carol sells hammers for a Korean manufacturing company, drifting through a lonely and largely unproductive existence. When he steps on a rusty nail, however, the injury begins to fester—literally and metaphorically—introducing a creeping infection that slowly pushes the film into creature-feature territory.

What follows is less a traditional horror escalation and more a slow descent into decay, both physical and psychological. Carol is the type of character most audiences would instinctively avoid in real life—the kind of guy you might pass at the grocery store or encounter as a rideshare driver late at night. Yet the film remains tightly tethered to his perspective, forcing viewers to navigate this increasingly disturbing world alongside him.

Falls gives Carol a strange, magnetic presence. He’s arguably the last person anyone would want as a son or partner, but the character somehow manages to keep moving forward with a bizarre sense of resilience. He drifts through life with an almost nihilistic acceptance of his circumstances—even when his infected foot becomes an obvious warning sign that something is terribly wrong.

At its core, Bagworm functions as both body horror and social observation. The Bernsens craft a portrait of a man who has allowed his life to rot around him, mirroring the physical deterioration taking place within his body. The film suggests that even the most hedonistic or apathetic characters can eventually be humbled by forces beyond their control—whether that’s nature, illness, or their own self-destructive behavior.

Stylistically, the film deliberately avoids the glossy aesthetic that currently dominates genre filmmaking. Instead, Bagworm leans into a grimy, late-night visual tone reminiscent of exploitation cinema from the 1980s and early 1990s. Watching the film often feels like stumbling across an oddball horror title airing on a syndicated television channel long after midnight, the kind of movie discovered by accident while flipping through stations.

This approach aligns with the film’s thematic interest in the overlooked corners of society. Carol represents a type of character rarely centered in contemporary horror—a drifting, isolated man who has largely disconnected from the world around him. The film hints at a broader cultural phenomenon, touching on the increasing number of socially withdrawn men living on the fringes of society, a trend documented in various countries around the world.

The result is a film that embraces urban decay rather than polished terror, recalling the influence of underground genre traditions such as Troma-style exploitation films, gritty New York horror and other cult midnight cinema.

A brief appearance from Corbin Bernsen adds an unexpected moment of personality to the film, the kind of cameo that only a veteran performer could deliver with such ease.

Ultimately, Bagworm is not designed to shock audiences with extreme spectacle. Instead, it settles into a slow, uncomfortable spiral—one driven largely by the self-imposed stagnation of its protagonist. Like last year’s festival oddity Hedonous, the film feels less like a conventional narrative and more like watching a character gradually collapse under the weight of his own choices.

For viewers who appreciate grimy, offbeat horror that embraces the uglier edges of human behavior, Bagworm delivers exactly what its premise promises. It’s an unapologetically rough piece of midnight genre filmmaking that reminds audiences there’s still room for horror that lives far away from the glossy polish of the mainstream.

Rating: 3 out of 5

Directed by: Oliver Bernsen

Cast: Peter Falls, Michelle Ortiz, Robbie Arnett, Corbin Bernsen, Stephen Borrello, Jessy Morner-Ritt, Sydney Winbush, Francesca Galassi