The Horror of Upper West Side Privilege
If Sofia Coppola and the Twilight saga ever had a moody, over-educated baby, it would be Innocence — a horror movie that’s neither horrifying nor particularly innocent. Directed by Hilary Brougher and based on Jane Mendelsohn’s novel, this film is a cautionary tale about grief, vampirism, and the dangers of attending a Manhattan prep school run by runway models with a taste for virgin blood.
The result is a cinematic experience that feels like The Craft got lost in the skincare aisle at Bloomingdale’s. It’s gothic, sure — but the kind of gothic that smells like expensive candles and student loan debt.
Welcome to the School of Slightly Sinister Rich People
Our heroine is Beckett Warner (Sophie Curtis), a morose teenager who looks like she’s perpetually auditioning for a Lana Del Rey music video. She’s recently lost her mother, and now she and her father Miles (Linus Roache) have moved to the Upper West Side — because nothing heals emotional trauma like a high-end brownstone and access to organic kombucha.
Beckett starts attending Hamilton Prep, a school so elite that its tuition probably costs more than a small yacht. But there’s something off about the place. The girls keep dying by suicide, the teachers all look like they’ve just stepped off a Vogue cover, and the school nurse, Pamela (Kelly Reilly), takes a little too much interest in Beckett’s purity.
Pamela eventually moves in with Beckett and her father — because clearly, horror movies have no concept of boundaries — and starts giving unsolicited advice like “stay a virgin.” Which, coming from a woman who radiates red-flag energy, is about as comforting as being told by Hannibal Lecter to eat your vegetables.
Vampires, But Make It Pretentious
It turns out the staff at Hamilton Prep are all incarnations of Lamia — not the polite Airbnb kind of guest, but an ancient queen of Libya cursed with immortality who stays alive by drinking virgin blood. In other words, the PTA meetings here must be wild.
This revelation, which could have been campy fun, is delivered with all the enthusiasm of a slow-motion funeral. Rather than leaning into pulpy horror, the film treats its vampire mythology like it’s trying to win a Sundance grant. The result is a movie that mistakes whispering for tension and candlelight for atmosphere.
Yes, there are vampires — but they’re classy vampires. They sip, not slurp. They prefer virgin necks and vintage wine, and they do all their hunting between spa appointments. If True Blood was a drunken swamp party, Innocence is the vegan wine bar version: sterile, moody, and utterly devoid of flavor.
The Horror of Being a Teenager (and This Script)
Beckett, poor thing, spends most of the movie looking pale and confused — though to be fair, that’s also how most people look after sitting through this film. Sophie Curtis gives a performance that oscillates between “bored influencer” and “sleep-deprived ghost.” It’s not entirely her fault; the script gives her dialogue that could put a caffeinated bat to sleep.
When she’s not staring longingly into mirrors or whispering about her dead mom, she’s being menaced by Kelly Reilly’s Nurse Pamela — a predator in couture who delivers lines like, “You have such… potential,” with enough sexual tension to make a priest sweat.
Kelly Reilly deserves a medal for trying to make sense of her character. She slinks through the film like a gothic yoga instructor who’s one bad day away from becoming a headline. You can tell she’s having fun, even if the script refuses to let her go full camp.
Meanwhile, Beckett’s father, Miles (Linus Roache), seems completely oblivious to the fact that his live-in girlfriend is a centuries-old virgin vampire. His main contribution to the plot is looking mildly confused and occasionally yelling, “Beckett!” as if shouting her name might make the story interesting.
The Supporting Cast: The Undead and the Underwritten
Then there’s Tobey (Graham Phillips), Beckett’s dreamy love interest. He’s so aggressively bland that he makes Edward Cullen look like a stand-up comedian. Tobey’s job in the movie is simple: be pretty, be sensitive, and eventually become vampire chow. Mission accomplished.
The rest of the cast is a collection of upscale archetypes: the mean girl, the moody best friend, the mysterious headmistress, and the teacher who looks like she teaches Pilates more than algebra. None of them make much impact, though they all look great in dim lighting.
And let’s not forget the legendary Sarah Sutherland (daughter of Kiefer), who plays Jen, Beckett’s friend. She provides mild comic relief and the only moments of human behavior in the entire film before vanishing from the plot like a ghost who got bored halfway through.
Aesthetic Overdrive, Story on Life Support
Visually, Innocence tries very hard to be ethereal. Every frame is drenched in soft lighting, fluttering curtains, and atmospheric gloom — the kind of aesthetic that says “art house” but whispers “Instagram filter.”
Director Hilary Brougher clearly has an eye for style; the movie looks great, in the same way a perfume commercial looks great. But the problem with turning every scene into a moody tableau is that you forget to tell a story.
The pacing is glacial. The scares are mild. The tension is nonexistent. You could watch this movie twice and still have time to take a nap during the third act.
Even the music — courtesy of tomandandy — feels like it’s been sedated. You half expect a ghostly voice to whisper, “You should have streamed something else.”
When the Horror is the Dialogue
There are some lines of dialogue so earnest they border on parody. “I feel like I’m disappearing,” Beckett whispers, as if auditioning for a Hot Topic ad. “You’re becoming who you are,” Pamela responds cryptically, presumably after reading one too many self-help books.
It’s a film that desperately wants to be profound but keeps tripping over its own dramatic intentions. There’s a thin thread of female empowerment running through it — the idea that innocence can be both a weapon and a curse — but it’s lost somewhere between the soft lighting and the endless scenes of people staring meaningfully at candles.
The Ending: Death by Ennui
By the time the finale rolls around, Beckett discovers Pamela’s true nature, and all hell (politely) breaks loose. There’s a showdown involving blood, betrayal, and the kind of CGI that would embarrass a mid-2000s soap opera. It should be climactic. Instead, it feels like the movie is apologizing for itself as the credits roll.
The supposed “twist” lands with all the impact of a damp Kleenex. Beckett triumphs, sort of, but you’re mostly just glad it’s over.
Final Thoughts: Gothic, Glacial, and Godawful
Innocence is the kind of horror film that thinks it’s too classy for horror. It’s so afraid of being trashy that it forgets to be fun, scary, or remotely engaging. Instead, it floats through its runtime like a bored ghost in designer heels, murmuring vaguely about grief and purity while you check your watch.
It’s a coming-of-age story where no one comes of age and a vampire movie where everyone seems half-asleep.
If you’re looking for a scary movie about young women, repression, and blood, go watch Jennifer’s Body instead. It has bite. Innocence, meanwhile, just kind of gums you to death.
Rating: 3 out of 10 Designer Fangs.
Too posh to be scary, too dull to be sexy, and too slow to suck properly.
