Victorian Psycho Review | Fantastic Fest 2026
One of the most anticipated films on Horror Movies Uncut’s Fantastic Fest 2026 schedule was Victorian Psycho, arriving in Austin after making its premiere at Cannes.
Starring Maika Monroe and Jason Isaacs, the period horror film had been positioned as something potentially wild, stylish and increasingly chaotic. What actually arrives onscreen is more restrained than that marketing might suggest, but ultimately, that restraint works in the film’s favor.
It also provides another showcase for Monroe, who continues to demonstrate why she has become one of the most compelling performers working in genre cinema.
There is an understated quality to Monroe’s performances that makes her particularly effective in horror. She doesn’t need dialogue to command the camera. Facial expressions, posture and physical movement frequently communicate as much as anything being said, and Victorian Psycho understands how valuable that ability can be.
Rather than immediately unleashing its central character, the film gives Monroe time to construct her from the inside.
That patience defines much of Victorian Psycho.
From its production design and costumes to its scenery and social conventions, the movie commits heavily to its period setting. There is an intentionality to the environment that allows the characters to feel contained within the world rather than simply appearing like contemporary actors wearing Victorian clothing.
The same careful construction extends to the film’s descent into madness.
There is a spiral developing beneath the story, and the filmmaking increasingly pulls the audience into it alongside Monroe’s character. Camera placement and shifting angles become particularly effective tools as her psychological state grows more unstable. Instead of simply telling us that something is changing, the movie gradually alters how we experience the world around her.
That is where Victorian Psycho is at its strongest.
The film repeatedly creates the impression that everything is about to explode, only to hold itself back a little longer. That could have become frustrating, particularly in a movie whose marketing suggested something closer to an anarchic, rock-and-roll burst of period carnage.
That isn’t really this movie.
The actual film is considerably more deliberate and structured.
In retrospect, that’s probably the better choice.
Going completely over the top from the beginning might have delivered a more immediately energetic experience, but it also would have sacrificed the opportunity to understand Monroe’s character before everything surrounding her begins to unravel. The anticipation works because the movie allows an audience to spend time waiting for the version of this woman that has been lurking underneath the surface.
When the film begins turning those screws, the restraint pays off.
Still, pacing is the area where Victorian Psycho leaves some room for improvement.
There are stretches where the movie feels primed to accelerate but remains in place just a little too long. The slow burn is essential to what the filmmakers are constructing, but increasing the tempo in a few places could have preserved that psychological buildup while giving the overall experience slightly more momentum.
It’s a relatively small criticism because the movie rarely loses control of what it is doing.
More importantly, Victorian Psycho understands the difference between anticipation and inactivity.
There is always something happening underneath the surface. Social expectations, repression and the increasingly unstable perspective of its central character give the quieter passages purpose. The movie isn’t simply waiting for violence. It is constructing the circumstances that make its eventual descent effective.
Isaacs fits comfortably into that carefully controlled world, but this remains Monroe’s showcase.
The camera knows it, too.
There are moments when simply watching her process a situation becomes more interesting than another movie’s elaborate dialogue exchange. That ability to communicate without relying on constant exposition gives the film freedom to remain visually focused, particularly as its psychological elements become more pronounced.
It also helps reconcile the movie audiences may have expected with the one that actually exists.
Anyone arriving at Victorian Psycho expecting nonstop carnage may initially wonder when the promised chaos is coming. The answer is that the film is less interested in chaos itself than the journey toward it.
That distinction matters.
This isn’t the breathless period bloodbath the marketing may have suggested. It is a controlled descent that occasionally allows itself to become vicious, funny and strange without abandoning the structure built around its central character.
And once you adjust to that rhythm, there is a lot to enjoy.
The period detail works. The cinematography works. The psychological spiral is effectively visualized, and Monroe once again proves capable of holding an audience’s attention without needing to announce every emotion her character is experiencing.
Would a slightly faster version of Victorian Psycho have worked even better? Possibly.
But the fact that the film resisted becoming the nonstop exercise in chaos I expected ultimately made it a more interesting movie.
At Fantastic Fest, where increasingly extreme genre films can arrive one after another, restraint can sometimes be its own surprise.
Victorian Psycho may not be the unhinged period nightmare its marketing seemed to promise, but it is smartly constructed, visually confident and anchored by another commanding Maika Monroe performance.
It is also one of my favorites of Fantastic Fest 2026 so far.
3.5 out of 5
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