The Lovechild of Hitchcock and an Australian Plumbing Disaster
Next of Kin is that rare slice of Aussie horror where the camera moves like it’s auditioning for Vertigo and the script quietly whispers, “What if all old folks’ homes were just holding tanks for serial killers?” Director Tony Williams crafts a slow-burn psychological nightmare that somehow manages to be both art-house elegant and gleefully unhinged. Think The Shining, but with more dentures and mysterious drownings.
Linda Stevens: Heiress to the World’s Creepiest Inheritance
Jacki Kerin plays Linda, who inherits Montclare, a sprawling rural retirement home that should really be condemned for excessive sinister energy alone. Upon arrival, she’s greeted by suspicious staff, unsettling new residents, and the general feeling that the wallpaper has been watching her. Then the drownings start. As in, multiple drownings. At a certain point, you’re left wondering if Montclare has a hidden waterslide that ends in a murder pit.
Family Ties… and the Kind You Strangle With
What follows is a wonderfully twisted inheritance of family secrets, psychosis, and homicidal cousins. The diaries Linda finds are pure gothic gold—entries dripping with paranoia, family betrayals, and enough “someone’s watching me” passages to make you want to put tape over every keyhole in your home. By the time Aunt Rita and her sledgehammer-swinging offspring show up, the family tree looks less like a lineage and more like a series of violent mugshots.
Why It Works
What elevates Next of Kin beyond typical early ’80s slashers is its tone—Williams shoots the film with deliberate pacing, gorgeous cinematography, and a score that’s both ethereal and nerve-jangling. This isn’t just about jump scares; it’s about creeping unease, the kind that makes you check the corners of the room before bed. And when the violence does erupt, it hits with the chaotic ferocity of a kangaroo hopped up on Red Bull.
The Ending: Shotguns and Fireballs
By the final act, we’ve traded the slow-burn dread for pure, cathartic chaos: shotgun blasts, truck crashes, and an inferno that could double as an insurance adjuster’s nightmare. Linda walks away battered but breathing, which in this movie qualifies as a happy ending.
Final Verdict
Next of Kin is a near-perfect mix of gothic mystery, psychological horror, and good old-fashioned Aussie mayhem. It takes its time but pays you back with style, mood, and an ending that practically shouts, “No sequel for you, mate—everyone’s dead or in therapy.”
