Anything for Jackson is the kind of movie that looks at all the usual horror tropes—possessions, Satanic rituals, grieving grandparents—and says, “Okay, but what if we made the sweet old couple the problem and also kind of… lovable?”
It’s a supernatural horror film, sure, but it’s also a very dark, very dry comedy about good intentions paved directly to Hell. Literally.
Sweet Grandparents, Terrible Ideas
Our story centers on Audrey and Dr. Henry Walsh (Sheila McCarthy and Julian Richings), who are what you’d get if you crossed the nicest neighbors on your street with the creepiest cult members in a demon-worship book club.
On the surface:
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Henry is a mild, soft-spoken doctor
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Audrey is a devoted, slightly flustered grandmother type
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They’re still grieving their beloved grandson Jackson, who died in a tragic accident
Underneath the cardigans and tea?
They’re Satanists with decent Latin pronunciation and a willingness to commit felonies for family.
Instead of going to therapy like regular people, Audrey and Henry decide the most reasonable solution is to bring Jackson back by stuffing his soul into somebody else’s unborn baby. As you do.
So they:
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Kidnap Shannon Becker, a pregnant patient of Henry’s
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Chain her to a bed in their cozy, snow-dusted suburban home
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And attempt a “reverse exorcism” to invite Jackson’s spirit into her fetus
It’s a genuinely brilliant premise: a couple who look like they’d bring muffins to the church bake sale quietly performing Satanic rituals in the guest bedroom.
The Ritual That Went “Oops, All Demons”
The thing about dabbling in ancient Satanic texts is that you really should read the fine print. Audrey and Henry, bless their unholy hearts, do not.
When they perform the ritual, they don’t just invite Jackson. They effectively rip open a supernatural group chat no one asked for.
Suddenly, the house becomes a waiting room for:
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Lost souls
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Vengeful spirits
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And various creatively horrible entities, all very interested in the nice, fresh vessel brewing in Shannon’s uterus
Instead of a tender “Welcome back, Jackson,” they’re stuck in a full-on paranormal traffic jam.
This is where the film absolutely shines. The haunting isn’t just “a demon.” It’s a whole parade of nightmares:
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A flossing ghost, dragging dental floss through teeth in a way that’ll make you want to cancel your next dentist appointment
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A contorted, disturbing bedsheet figure that looks like Michelangelo’s Pietà was redone by a sleep paralysis demon
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And other grotesque visitors who show up, linger just long enough to scar your brain, and then vanish
Every new apparition feels like its own short horror film crashed the party.
Horror with a Side of Awkward
What really sells Anything for Jackson is its tone. It is scary—sometimes very much so—but it’s also deeply, darkly funny without ever turning into a parody.
The humor lives in the details:
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Audrey’s cozy, grandma energy as she fusses over her captive like a reluctant bed-and-breakfast host
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Henry’s apologetic, weary demeanor as he tries to juggle patient care, Satanic ritual prep, and hiding bodies
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Their matter-of-fact attitude toward murder, summoning, and cosmic evil, like they’re organizing a church fundraiser
They don’t cackle like villains. They fret, bicker, and problem-solve like well-meaning grandparents who’ve bitten off a bit more than the Devil intended.
When things go wrong (and they very much do), they react less like maniacs and more like exhausted parents who messed up a DIY project:
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“We definitely didn’t plan for all these ghosts.”
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“Maybe we should’ve practiced first.”
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“We can fix it… right?”
The comedy never undercuts the horror; it sits right beside it, making everything both more ridiculous and more uncomfortable. You may laugh at one scene and then immediately think, “Yeah, I’m going to have dreams about that later.”
The Captive, the Cultist, and the Moral Mess
Shannon (Konstantina Mantelos) is the emotional anchor and the audience stand-in. She starts as a terrified victim, but she’s never just a passive pregnant prop. She:
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Pleads and negotiates
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Tries to escape
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And forces Henry and Audrey to confront the reality of what they’re doing
Her situation is genuinely awful: she’s trapped, pregnant, surrounded by lunatic grandparents and malicious spirits, with no idea if she, her baby, or anyone else will make it out.
Then there’s Ian (Josh Cruddas), a socially awkward Satanist who worships Audrey and Henry like they’re dark royalty. If Audrey and Henry are “Satanic Boomers,” Ian is the overeager millennial intern of the occult. He:
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Shows up for support and ritual help
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Insists on following “the rules” of their Satanic practice
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And slowly reveals himself to be far creepier and more unstable than the Walshes
The movie walks a clever line morally: Audrey and Henry are unquestionably doing something monstrous, but they’re also… weirdly sympathetic. Their grief is real. Their love for Jackson is real. Their guilt and doubt feel human.
It’s uncomfortable, and that’s the point. This isn’t a simple “good vs evil” story; it’s more “good intentions vs demonic customer service.”
The Scares: Efficient, Inventive, and Mean
For a movie that mostly takes place inside one house, Anything for Jackson crams in some deeply memorable horror imagery. The ghosts aren’t just jump-scare delivery systems; each one has its own personality and visual punch.
The film uses:
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Quiet, creeping dread
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Sudden, brutal violence
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And wildly unsettling ghost designs
…without ever leaning too hard on cheap “boo!” moments. When something appears, it matters. And when things turn violent, the movie doesn’t flinch.
There’s also a strong sense of escalation. The more Audrey and Henry double down on their plan, the worse their situation gets. Every scene has the energy of: “We have lost control, but we’re in too deep to stop.” It’s like watching a slow-motion car crash orchestrated by Beelzebub’s HR department.
Why It Works So Well
Despite its wild premise, Anything for Jackson is surprisingly tight and focused. A few reasons it works:
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Character-first horror: The Walshes aren’t caricatures; they’re fully realized people doing horrifying things for reasons that make sense to them.
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Fresh take on possession: A “reverse exorcism” is such a cool spin, and the film fully embraces the chaos it unleashes.
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Balanced tone: It’s funny without being goofy, tragic without being melodramatic, and scary without being joyless.
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Great performances: Sheila McCarthy and Julian Richings absolutely carry the film. McCarthy’s brittle warmth and Richings’ haunted gentleness make them feel like real people, not just villain templates.
Everything feels contained yet big: small cast, one main location, but a sense that they’ve opened a metaphysical problem far beyond what any of them can handle.
Final Verdict: Grandma, Grandpa, and the Gates of Hell
Anything for Jackson is what happens when you mash up:
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A grief drama
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A haunted house film
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A possession flick
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And a jet-black comedy about the limits of “doing it for family”
It’s clever, unnerving, and genuinely original in a subgenre that often feels like it’s just repeating Latin until the credits roll.
If you’ve ever thought, “Wow, these sweet older people would literally do anything for their grandkid,” this movie replies: “Okay. Let’s see what anything really looks like.”
And it turns out “anything” involves kidnapping, Satanic rituals, a purgatory portal, and a houseful of extremely cranky ghosts.
Merry Hellidays.
