“You are beautiful.”

Generational trauma is nothing new for horror, but it’s gradually become one of modern horror’s most popular ingredients. Horror inherently holds a twisted mirror up to society, and so it makes a lot of sense that its current era is so steeped in generational trauma, the sins of the past, and how this can “elevate” certain genre ideas into something deeper. To this point, a movie like Other isn’t doing anything that horror fans haven’t seen plenty of times before. Alice (Olga Kurylenko) learns that her mother has brutally died, which brings her back to her childhood home, revisiting territory that she’s been all too eager to leave behind. Alice’s childhood home is steeped in painful memories, vestiges of the past, and reminders of her mother, yet it also features an over-the-top surveillance system that leaves Alice feeling perpetually watched. Soon, these feelings of being on display and observed extend beyond any security system, and Alice begins to worry that a cruel creature may also be keeping tabs on her. 

There’s a built-in structure and style to these homecoming horror stories that Other doesn’t necessarily escape. There’s a lot to love in this alienating and raw meditation on grief, beauty, motherhood, and the fragmentation of one’s self. Other is a promising and impressive offering from filmmaker David Moreau, but it’s a tough sell that struggles not to get lost in the digital noise. 

Other is a heartbreaking story of regression, self-destruction, and acceptance that’s triggered by Alice’s cathartic homecoming, in which she must address certain demons from her past that she thought were long put to rest. Moreau’s previous film, MadS, was a maddening single-take stylistic masterpiece. Other is another subversive journey inward, but in a considerably more conventional narrative. This is not to say that Other is “normal” by any means, because that’s certainly not the case either. It’s a wildly bold and experimental examination of something truly terrible that leaves Alice feeling utterly violated.

Other reins itself in to some degree, yet it’s still full of disturbing visuals, upsetting characters, and an exceptional sound design that brings Alice’s paranoia to life. The film showcases an abundance of cold, sterile shots of empty spaces and drone-fueled surveillance footage that erases any sense of privacy. Other suffocates its audience through confusing, cryptic filmmaking that bombards the viewer with sirens, lights, and nonlinear visuals. It’s as if Other wants to keep the audience as disoriented as Alice is and unprepared for what’s next. 

Other, and the many similar films before it, often prompt their main characters to come to terms with who they have become in reference to who they were in the past. Alice’s journey in Other is all about figuring out her truth and making peace with it, once and for all, without compromise. It’s just as much a tender character study as it is a surreal and psychological thriller. Other’s compulsion to put Alice’s realized self against her idealized self isn’t fresh territory for horror. However, Other adds more fuel to this fire with how it uses technology – and surveillance – to endlessly split Alice. Other makes some compelling points regarding audio and video’s ability to cement permanent versions of people in history, despite how they may now no longer ring true. These preserved versions of our past selves may even ultimately outlive and define us. It gives videotapes the same power as David Lynch’s Lost Highway, where pieces of Alice are permanently trapped on these tapes, and she’ll never fully have ownership of herself if they still exist. 

Other really embraces this fragmentation of self and how Alice, even if she hasn’t realized it, has led an infinitely divided life. The film is filled with evocative imagery that finds ways to contort and refract individuals through broken screens, blurred video footage, and rainy windows. People are consistently reduced to corrupt, lost versions of themselves, and Other intentionally obscures everyone’s faces except for Alice. It’s a powerful way for Other to visually reinforce its themes, while Alice is made to feel increasingly isolated. 

Olga Kurylenko is an actress who is used to playing cipher-like characters. This carries over, to some extent, with Other’s Alice. Alice is someone who requires a layered, rich performance so that the audience can fill in Alice’s (many) blanks. It turns into a sad, slow psychological breakdown that’s akin to Repulsion or Possession. Kurylenko puts everything that she has into this pained performance. She’s consistently a magnetic performer who must carry the film on her shoulders, and she’s practically in every scene. Other is really a one-woman show in many respects. 

Kurylenko’s performance will likely divide the audience, which is unfortunate for those who aren’t into what she brings to the table because she represents just so much of the movie. Alice’s background in veterinary studies highlights that she’s someone who innately wants to help and heal creatures and find them homes. There are small touches like this that indicate why Alice is the ideal person to be caught in this situation. The evidence continues to mount until Other’s punishing finale. 

Unfortunately, Other reduces Alice to a rather facile stereotype that undercuts the film’s message. Her character is far too broad at times and caught up in behavior that feels more like a male’s interpretation of how women process feelings than the real thing. Other is often able to rise above these moments. That being said, it becomes easier to recognize these weaker characterization beats and plot holes when other moments fall short.

Other is sublime slow-burn horror that may not necessarily stick the landing, but it certainly deserves points for effort and never sacrificing vibes. There’s also some excellent gore involving a certain body part during the film’s climax, despite Other’s scares largely being psychological in nature. The final act, while messy, conjures such palpable nightmare fuel and feels like a true descent into Hell. There’s a lot to appreciate in Other, and it’s absolutely exciting to watch Moreau further refine his craft. Unlike MadS, Other does get a little repetitive and becomes full of itself, especially when it comes to the movie’s simplistic examination of women. Other occasionally condescends, but Kurylenko makes the material worthwhile, even when the audience may want to roll their eyes. Other is destined to be a polarizing film, yet those who have zero patience for Other’s methodical and introspective storytelling should at least appreciate several setpieces and jump-scares that are genuinely unnerving. It’s perhaps only fitting that a film that’s so obsessed with keeping up appearances would become a case where beauty is so firmly in the eye of the beholder.

Other debuts on Shudder on October 17, 2025.