Amulet is the kind of horror movie that looks at the usual “sad man with trauma gets redemption” arc and says, “Absolutely not. Put that down. You don’t deserve nice things.”
It’s strange, sticky, layered, and confidently weird — like someone made a Catholic guilt art film, filled it with mold, bats and intestines, and then quietly set it on fire behind a crumbling London terrace.
And honestly? It’s great.
The Setup: Stray Man Meets Haunted House (and the House Wins)
Our protagonist is Tomaz, an ex-soldier and refugee whose life has gone so badly that sleeping in a burned-out building is, for him, just another Tuesday. Through flashbacks we see him stationed at a remote border outpost in his unnamed home country, where he discovers an amulet in the woods and meets Miriam, a woman he allows to stay with him after catching her crossing illegally.
In the present day, Tomaz is in London, doing day labor and squatting with other migrants in a derelict building. When that building conveniently catches fire (as if the universe looked at his life and thought, “Needs more symbolism”), he passes out in the alley and wakes up in the care of Sister Claire, a nun played by Imelda Staunton with the exact energy of a woman who would absolutely guilt you into an exorcism.
Claire offers him what sounds like salvation: a place to stay in exchange for helping around a house occupied by Magda, a pale, nervous woman caring for her supposedly dying mother in the attic. It’s all very “stray dog brought home by church lady” — except the dog has war crimes, and the house has… other things.
Magda clearly doesn’t want him there. Tomaz doesn’t really want to be there either. The house definitely doesn’t want anyone there. You can feel the rot through the screen.
Which is, of course, why this arrangement is perfect.
The House: Part Hospice, Part Hellmouth
Tomaz begins to notice things are… off.
The plumbing is a nightmare. The lights almost never work. Everything has that damp, peeling look of a building that has seen things and would like to be demolished as a mercy.
Then there’s Magda’s “mother” in the attic.
Magda claims she’s gravely ill and needs to be locked up “for her own good.” When Tomaz finally sees her, the woman looks like someone crossbred a corpse with a wasp’s nest. She shrieks, attacks Magda, and generally behaves less like a bedridden invalid and more like a demon that took “stay upstairs” as a vague suggestion.
At this point, any sane person would leave. Tomaz, being a man, decides to fix this with DIY and emotional projection.
He:
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Patches leaks
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Kills an albino bat he finds clogging the toilet (because sure, why not)
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Gets bitten by said bat, like this is a medieval folk tale about karmic infection
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Starts to grow protective and weirdly infatuated with Magda, who alternates between wary, obedient, and “I am one spilled secret away from stabbing someone”
Magda confesses she’s never really been anywhere or done anything. Tomaz, with that special male combo of guilt and attraction, takes her out dancing — which is sweet, if you can momentarily ignore the fact that this house very clearly has “spirit of vengeance” energy and is absolutely not finished with him.
Sister Claire: The Holiest Red Flag
When things escalate — specifically when Magda’s “mother” starts birthing bat-like demons like the world’s worst biology project — Tomaz does what many horror protagonists tragically fail to do: he goes and tells the nun.
Sister Claire receiving a report like, “Yes, there’s a woman in the attic giving birth to toothy bat-worms” and responding with, “Ah, right, that’ll be the demon we’ve been containing for years” is peak Amulet. No hysteria. No surprise. Just tired, practical evil management.
She explains to Tomaz that:
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The “mother” is a demon-possessed host
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The house is basically demon containment
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She and Magda are there to keep the evil in check
Which is a bit like telling the guy who got hired to do light plumbing that, by the way, the pipes are full of hell.
Tomaz, smitten and full of archaic protector instincts, decides he’s going to “save” Magda from this life, kill the demon, and free her.
This goes about as well as you’d expect.
The Flashbacks: Oh, So He’s Not Just Sad, He’s Awful
Up to this point, Tomaz has the tragic-hero checklist:
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War trauma? ✅
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Refugee status? ✅
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Haunted eyes? ✅
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Gentle with frightened woman? ✅
Then the film yanks the floorboards up and shows us what’s underneath.
We flash back to Tomaz’s time with Miriam. At first, he protects her from other soldiers, urges her to stay with him until the war ends, and seems almost tender.
But when Miriam tries to leave to return to her daughter, Tomaz reveals who he really is: he chases her down and rapes her.
No ambiguity. No “confusion in the heat of war.” Just violence, entitlement, and the kind of monstrous act that horror usually dresses up as metaphor. Amulet doesn’t. It keeps it uncomfortably literal.
Suddenly, the narrative shifts. This is not a story of a broken man finding healing.
This is a story of a man being quietly, methodically fed to something he deserves.
Demonology, But Make It Feminist
Back in the house, Tomaz tries again to kill the demon “mother.” He finally succeeds in decapitating her… and then realizes the body is not Magda’s mother at all, but the previous male occupant of the house — a man who killed his wife and planned to marry his own child.
So the gig here is:
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A house where monstrous men are turned into vessels for demonic punishment
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Women (like Magda and Sister Claire) acting as wardens, caretakers, and, frankly, karmic administrators
Sister Claire lays it out: now that Tomaz has “killed” the last host, he is the new one. The demon will gestate inside him. He’ll be contained, not destroyed.
And he doesn’t get to choose whether this happens — only who his guardian will be.
Tomaz, in a final flourish of deluded romance, chooses Magda. Because of course he does. He still thinks this is about him protecting her.
Cut to: Tomaz sick, in bed, stomach swelling, skin crawling — and eventually giving birth through his own body to a small, demonic creature, in a sequence that feels like a cursed mashup of pregnancy, punishment, and body horror.
Congratulations, Tomaz. You’ve unlocked the “cosmic womb of retribution” achievement.
Magda and Miriam: The Women Cleaning Up the Mess
The ending is quietly brilliant and extremely petty in the best way.
We see Magda pull up to a shop where Miriam now works. They exchange a few gentle words, Magda checks that she’s safe, then leaves.
In the back of Magda’s vehicle, hidden under blankets, is Tomaz — now reduced to a weak, contained host with demon-baby duty.
Magda nonchalantly tosses some food back there the way you’d feed a dog you’re only keeping because the kid likes it.
It’s a small, satisfying reversal:
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The man who once controlled and imprisoned Miriam is now dependent and contained himself.
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The women, who were once victims around men’s violence, are now quietly in charge.
There’s no big speech. No explained spell. Just the implication that this is how it works now: the world doesn’t forget what you’ve done, and certain houses — and certain women — have long memories.
Slow-Burn Weirdness With Teeth
Amulet is not a jump-scare carnival ride. It’s:
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Slow
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Moody
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Wet (emotionally and physically; this film has a lot of leaks and slime)
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More interested in guilt and consequence than in “boo!” moments
The horror comes from:
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Body horror (bat-creatures, birthing, physical transformation)
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Atmospheric dread in that crumbling house
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The dawning realization that the protagonist is not who you thought he was — and that the universe is, for once, not letting that slide
Carla Juri’s Magda is fantastic: fragile on the surface, but with a core of steel and a gaze that suggests she knows way more than she’s saying.
Imelda Staunton’s Sister Claire is both warm and terrifying—a nun who will offer you soup, a bed, and a carefully curated eternal punishment.
And Alec Secareanu manages the tricky job of making Tomaz sympathetic enough to follow, then repulsive enough that his fate feels disturbingly appropriate.
Final Verdict: Eat the Patriarchy, Birth the Demon
Amulet is like a cursed fairy tale for the #MeToo era:
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A man’s sins don’t drown; they ferment.
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Redemption arcs are not handed out just because you look sad in low lighting.
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Sometimes the monster in the attic is you — and sometimes the women downstairs are not victims, but architects.
It’s not for everyone. If you want straightforward demon lore and clear rules, this will drive you mad. If you want a horror movie that smashes Catholic imagery, folklore, trauma, and revenge into one fever dream and then stares you down like, “Yeah, sit with that,” this is your movie.
And if nothing else, you’ll walk away with one important lesson:
If a nun finds you in an alley and offers you free housing in a crumbling house with a secretive woman and a locked attic…
Say no. Or at least check if there’s an amulet involved.
