Surprise Sleeper Hit Explodes on Streaming
Much like The Babadook or Hereditary, the horror of Hatching (2022) lives as much in the psychological as it does in the physical. The poster for the movie (perfectly posed family sitting together, all with their faces covered by harsh white masks, except the main character Tinja (Siiri Solalinna), who wears a broken version) illustrates one of the primary themes running throughout the film. The narrative is as much about Tinja’s developing identity as it is the creature she hatches.
Day In The Life: Narcissist Edition
The film opens on a young girl, Tinja, gracefully performing gymnastics in her picturesque living room. Intercut with the scene are shots of her family, Mother (Sophia Heikkila), Father, and little brother Matias, whimsically playing a game of tickle tag, and frolicking in the yard. It reads like a suburban daydream: perfect smiles, endless sunshine, and a life to be desired. But the camera abruptly cuts to Mother thanking her online followers and wishing them a family as happy and perfect as hers. That’s right, this has all been a carefully crafted video for Mother’s lifestyle vlog.
The facade erupts into chaos as a raven swoops inside, shattering more than just Mother’s crystal chandelier. Tinja is able to capture the creature only after it has destroyed the living room. In front of her children, Mother snaps the bird’s neck and hands it to Tinja to throw out.
Tinja wakes late in the night and finds herself drawn to the forest outside. Venturing deep in the trees, Tinja discovers the raven’s nest, a single egg inside. She adopts the orphaned egg and begins caring for it in secret. However, as Tinja’s inner turmoil grows, so too does the egg, swelling to nearly the size of Tinja herself. What emerges from inside is a terrifying eldritch horror torn from the deepest parts of Tinja herself.
Grimm Who?
Director Hanna Bergholm brings a sharp, unsettling vision to life, working with fellow screenwriter Ilja Rautsi to shape this dark folktale that is purely original as well as equal parts grotesque and tragic. Siiri Solalinna stuns in a dual role that demands both vulnerability and quiet menace. Her performance carries the film with eerie precision.
However, it’s Sophia Heikkilä who leaves the deepest chill. Her performance as Mother crackles with quiet cruelty, made all the more disturbing by how quickly she shifts from warm and nurturing to cold and unhinged. As seen in the opening scene, the character beams into a camera, curating a sun-drenched fantasy of family bliss for her lifestyle vlog, but then, moments later, she snaps a wild bird’s neck without hesitation because it broke her knick-knacks. Mother doesn’t flinch, doesn’t soften, just hands the body to her daughter and tells her to throw it in the garbage. That moment sets the tone: beneath every smile, a threat. The supporting cast rounds out the family with believable, repressed dysfunction, and the production design is deliberate, polished, and soaked in metaphor.
Show, Don’t Tell
The cinematography plays a crucial role in separating illusion from reality. Scenes shot through Mother’s camera lens glow with warm lighting, soft angles, and gently tinted pastels, as well as showing off her expensive, tasteful decor arranged just so. Every frame whispers of perfection, as if the house itself performs for the invisible audience, too. In stark contrast, the rest of the film confronts viewers with unforgiving clarity. Lighting becomes colder, angles can be harsh and sometimes terrifying, and scenes shot in the home are arranged to look dull and claustrophobic. This duality visually reflects the split between the world Mother presents and the world Tinja actually inhabits. The score hums beneath it all, minimal, but unsettling, and atmospheric. The animatronic puppet of Ali’s bird form is genuinely upsetting, and as the transformation begins, the grotesque practical effects are stomach-turning.
The Evil in the Contrast
While Bergholm and Rautsi could have taken the easy and more obvious route, Ali is so much more than simply an evil doppelganger; to suggest so would be a negligent oversimplification of the psychological metaphors at work. Hatching succeeds as both a visceral body horror and a sharp psychological fairy tale, peeling back the glossy veneer of perfection to expose raw reality. Every element from the unsettling creature design to the contrasting cinematography works in tandem to explore identity, repression, and motherhood. It’s a film that creeps under the skin slowly, lingering long after the final scene. Disturbing and tragic, Hatching delivers its message with eerie precision.
Stream Hatching on Hulu or Tubi streaming services.
Hatching (2022) Official IFC Films Trailer
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Author
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melanie wigginshttps://deadtalknews.com/author/melanie/
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melanie wigginshttps://deadtalknews.com/author/melanie/
Elke Simmons' writing portfolio includes contributions to The Laredo Morning Times, Walt Disney World Eyes and Ears, Extinction Rebellion (XR) News/Blog, and Dead Talk News.
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Elke D. Simmonshttps://deadtalknews.com/author/elke-d-simmons/
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Elke D. Simmonshttps://deadtalknews.com/author/elke-d-simmons/
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Elke D. Simmonshttps://deadtalknews.com/author/elke-d-simmons/
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Elke D. Simmonshttps://deadtalknews.com/author/elke-d-simmons/