Movie Review ~ Anacoreta

Meta-horror is a tricky genre to get right.  For every Scream or The Cabin in the Woods—films that deconstruct horror without losing their own bite—plenty of self-indulgent misfires get lost in their own cleverness.  Anacoreta, directed by Jeremy Schuetze, walks that tightrope skillfully, balancing playful self-awareness with real tension.  It’s a film that knows exactly what it’s doing and, crucially, makes sure the audience does too.  But is the entire movie a ruse? Or just parts of it? That’s the question that the filmmakers keep you guessing over for 85 solid minutes.

It’s motives are clear, Anacoreta wants to have some fun with a familiar horror setup: a group of friends heads to an isolated cabin in the woods—only this time, they’re there to shoot an experimental horror film.  The weekend starts with casual filmmaking chaos, but as events unfold, the line between their fictional project and real-life terror begins to blur.  And then the true monster emerges: the director.  It’s a premise that could easily collapse under the weight of its own ambition, but Schuetze (Jennifer’s Body) and co-writer/co-star Matt Visser (Woman of the Hour) handle it with a light touch, keeping the film engaging without tipping into parody.

Rather than relying on found-footage gimmicks, Anacoreta employs a handheld shooting style that still feels in the moment without being distracting.  It never falls into the usual trap of making audiences question why characters are still filming instead of running for their lives.  The cinematography seamlessly integrates with the film’s shifting realities, creating a disorienting but immersive experience for the audience.  This handheld approach (predominately by one of the weekenders) also does a remarkable job of maintaining suspense while keeping the action clear—a tougher feat than it sounds.

Schuetze, who directs and stars, takes a fascinating risk by having the entire cast use their real names, a decision that further erodes the boundary between fiction and reality, making it nearly impossible to tell what’s scripted and what isn’t.  The ensemble works exceptionally well together, feeling less like actors playing roles they’ve rehearsed and more like people who have genuinely known each other for years.  Schuetze has surrounded himself with an effortlessly charismatic cast, but the standout is Antonia Thomas, whose sharp, no-nonsense energy gives the film an anchor.  She’s not just reacting to horror—she’s shaping it, making choices that feel justified based on the circumstances she’s faced with rather than dictated by genre conventions.

Despite its scrappy, indie-scale production, Anacoreta never feels amateurish.  There’s an undeniable polish to the film that elevates it beyond its modest budget.  It’s clear this was a labor of love, with every cast and crew member fully invested in making something special.  The sound design, in particular, is worth highlighting; it’s not just there to punctuate scares but to deepen the sense of dread that creeps through the film.  The minimal yet effective score enhances key moments without overstating them.

What makes Anacoreta especially fun is how it stays one step ahead of the audience, but not obnoxiously so.  Without cheating in its mission, it constantly shifts the goalposts, making it difficult to predict where it’s headed next.  Some meta-horrors get too caught up in their own cleverness, but Schuetze ensures that every twist serves a purpose beyond just shocking the viewer.  The film isn’t an exercise in smug self-awareness either—it’s a story that works both as a commentary on horror filmmaking and as a genuinely thrilling ride.

Beyond the genre mechanics, Anacoreta also has something to say about artistic obsession.  The idea of a director so consumed by his vision that he’s willing to manipulate, deceive, and even endanger those around him isn’t new, but the film presents it in a way that feels unsettlingly fresh.  In an era where deepfakes blur reality, and reality TV manufactures authenticity, Anacoreta asks: what happens when the director’s control extends beyond the screen? The film doesn’t hammer this idea home, but the questions it raises stick with you long after it’s over.

Reactions to Anacoreta will likely be split.  Some will revel in its mind-bending structure and genre-bucking tricks, while others may find its refusal to provide full disclosure of its methods frustrating.  But that’s part of its charm.  It’s the kind of film that practically demands another viewing (preferably with new recruits) to catch all its intricacies.  It’s not just playing with horror—it’s having a full-on conversation with it.

Ultimately, Anacoreta is an impressively shifty entry in the meta-horror genre, one that embraces its high-concept ambitions without ever feeling pretentious.  It knows how to toy with its audience, keeping them guessing until the end.  There’s plenty to enjoy, whether you’re in it for the psychological twists, the sly industry jabs, or just the sheer fun of watching a well-executed thriller.  And while it may not have a U.S.  release date yet, it’s well worth seeking out—because if Anacoreta proves anything, it’s that sometimes the scariest thing of all is who’s really in control.