Nerdly » London Film Festival 2022: ‘NightMare’ Review

13th Oct2022

London Film Festival 2022: ‘NightMare’ Review

by Matthew Turner

Stars: Eili Harboe, Herman Tømmeraas, Dennis Storhøi | Written and Directed by Kjersti Helen Rasmussen

A pregnant young woman becomes convinced that a demon is intent on possessing her unborn child in this horror debut from Norwegian writer-director Kjersti Helen Rasmussen. Despite a few plot wobbles, it’s a well crafted chiller, anchored by a solid lead performance from Eili Harboe (Thelma).

Set in present-day Norway, NightMare centres on Mona (Harboe) and Robbie (Herman Tømmeraas), a young couple who’ve just moved into a spacious, but suspiciously cheap apartment. Mona is hesistant on the subject of children, but she soon falls pregnant, which delights Robbie. However, their happiness is short-lived, because Mona starts experiencing night terrors, which grow more intense with every night that passes.

In desperation, Mona and Robbie turn to Axsel (Dennis Storhøi), a doctor who specialises in sleep disorders, but when he warns of a mythical creature called a Mare, Mona’s problems get significantly worse. Soon, she becomes convinced that the Mare has designs on her unborn child, a problem that’s only compounded by the fact that nobody will believe her.

Eili Harboe is excellent as Mona, anchoring the film with a compelling, empathetic performance. She’s particularly good at suggesting Mona’s declining mental state, as she becomes more and more exhausted and desperate. Tømmeraas has a less challenging role, but he’s good value as Robbie, and there’s strong support from Storhøi and from Peter Forde as Mona’s frazzled neighbour, who’s been through a similar experience.

NightMare‘s biggest problem is that it tries to be too many things at once, thanks to a script that can’t decide whether it wants to be a pregnancy horror, a new apartment horror, a sleep paralysis horror, a possession horror or a haunted house story. Ultimately, that lack of focus works against it, not least because of the way the various clichés of each of those genres keep piling up.

The film is beautifully shot, courtesy of Oskar Dahlsbakken’s atmospheric cinematography, and the sense of tension is heightened by some terrific sound design work throughout, especially during Mona’s very creepy dream sequences. In addition, Rasmussen pulls off a number of effective shocks, as well as a twist or two, and there are some chilling set-pieces. On a similar note, the editing is excellent, keeping the audience constantly off balance, because you’re never quite sure what’s meant to be a dream and what isn’t.

The film’s biggest problem is that it tries to be too many things at once, thanks to a script that can’t decide whether it wants to be a pregnancy horror, a new apartment horror, a sleep paralysis horror, a possession horror or a haunted house story. Ultimately, that lack of focus works against NightMare, not least because of the way the various clichés of each of those genres keep piling up.

The film is also hampered by the fact that it’s one of those scripts where you end up picking holes in the story afterwards and saying things like, “It would have been so much better if…” In short, it’s engaging and enjoyable enough in the moment, and it delivers enough shocks and scares to earn a pass, but you’ll definitely feel like you’ve seen it all before elsewhere.