Some horror films announce their intentions immediately. Others prefer to lure audiences into a false sense of security before revealing what lies beneath. Corpus, the feature debut from writer-director Corrin Evans, firmly belongs in the latter category, delivering an unsettling blend of psychological horror, erotic tension and surreal mystery that asks viewers to surrender to its deliberately measured rhythm.
Set during the summer of 1998, Corpus follows Sayo (Jeff Wahlberg), a soulful nightlife photographer who supplements his income by dealing small amounts of drugs around New York City. Still quietly harbouring feelings for his longtime friend Vince Marlowe (Brodie Townsend), an actor whose career is rapidly taking off, Sayo eagerly accepts an invitation to what promises to be an unforgettable party at a secluded estate upstate. Joined by their reckless friend Ross (Michael Vlamis), the trio expect a weekend of excess. Instead, they’re welcomed by three enigmatic women – Billie (Lily Cowles), Wren (Nuha Jes Izman) and Cata (Ching Valdes-Aran) – whose increasingly unsettling behaviour slowly reveals that the gathering is anything but ordinary.
Evans wastes no time establishing an atmosphere of unease. The film opens not with its central trio but with a deeply uncomfortable sequence set a year earlier, in which a nervous young model participates in a photoshoot while an unseen photographer reassures her from behind the camera. The words are calming, yet somehow deeply sinister. The sequence escalates into an image that immediately signals Corpus won’t shy away from confronting audiences, creating a sense of dread that lingers long after the story shifts to Sayo’s perspective.
That opening eventually finds its narrative purpose, but audiences expecting the same intensity throughout may find themselves surprised by what follows. For much of its running time, Corpus unfolds at an almost dreamlike pace, preferring mood over momentum as it slowly draws its characters – and viewers – into its increasingly strange world.
That patience is both the film’s greatest strength and its biggest hurdle.
Those willing to embrace its hypnotic rhythm will find plenty to admire. Evans creates an immersive atmosphere steeped in late-’90s nightlife culture, with vibrant cinematography, moody lighting and richly textured production design that make every frame feel carefully curated. The visual language frequently tells the story as much as the dialogue, capturing the seductive allure of both New York’s club scene and the isolated manor that becomes the film’s haunting centrepiece.
The ensemble fully commits to the film’s unusual tone. Wahlberg anchors the story with a quietly melancholic performance that makes Sayo an easy protagonist to invest in, while Townsend brings a magnetic confidence to Vince, balancing movie-star charisma with a certain emotional weaponization. Vlamis injects welcome bursts of energy whenever the deliberately restrained pacing threatens to stall.
Among the mysterious trio, Cowles leaves the strongest impression as Billie, walking the line between seductive, sympathetic and quietly terrifying without ever fully revealing her intentions. Alongside Izman and Valdes-Aran, the trio cultivate an unnerving presence that grows increasingly hypnotic as the mystery unfolds.
When Corpus finally leans fully into its horror during its final act, it becomes a considerably more gripping experience. The film’s themes surrounding desire, identity, trust, gender and the compromises people make in pursuit of love or success begin to crystallise, giving greater meaning to many of the earlier scenes that initially appear ambiguous or aimless.
Still, there’s no escaping the fact that the journey to reach that destination requires considerable patience. The slow burn occasionally borders on stagnation, with long stretches where intrigue alone struggles to maintain momentum. Viewers looking for conventional horror thrills or frequent scares may find themselves waiting longer than expected before the film truly delivers on the promise established by its provocative opening.
Yet that’s also part of Evans’ vision. Corpus isn’t interested in immediate gratification; it wants audiences to sit with discomfort, uncertainty and temptation before the horror fully reveals itself. Its eroticism, surreal imagery and possession-like mentality create a uniquely disorienting atmosphere that feels less interested in jump scares than psychological seduction.
As a debut feature, Corpus is an ambitious piece of filmmaking. It doesn’t always balance its pacing with enough narrative propulsion, but its confidence, visual sophistication and willingness to embrace ambiguity mark Evans as a filmmaker with a distinctive voice. Horror fans who appreciate stories that savour the hunt before the kill – and are comfortable living in uncertainty for much of the ride – will likely find themselves captivated by its eerie spell.
THREE STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Corpus is screening as part of this year’s Fantasia International Film Festival, running in Montreal, Quebec between July 16th and August 2nd, 2026. For more information on the festival, head to the official site here.
