Rupert Grint's Latest Movie Is One Of The Weirdest Horrors Of The Year

I never thought that out of all the Harry Potter alumni, it was going to be Rupert Grint who'd become the horror guy. It didn't happen right away, though. Once the fantasy film series wrapped in 2011, he had to find his lane again through a vast array of different roles (comedies, dramedies, and crime shows) in both television and film, but once he was cast in Tony Basgallop and M. Knight Shyamalan's slow-burn psychological horror series "Servant," he locked in. Ever since, he has worked in Guillermo Del Toro's "Cabinet of Curiosities," appeared in Shyamalan's "Knock at the Cabin," and in his latest, "Nightborn," he joined the upsurge of Nordic horror cinema.

In Hanna Bergholm's second folk horror (the follow-up to her phantasmagoric debut, "Hatching"), Rupert is the expat who moves to the Finnish countryside with his native wife Saga (Seidi Haarla) to start a family. She inherited a dilapidated house from her late grandmother deep in the Finnish forest, which the couple thinks will be the perfect environment to raise their several (planned) kids, once they make it habitable again. They waste no time: Saga gets pregnant almost immediately after they arrive, and by the time their son arrives, the place virtually looks like it was clipped out of a home magazine.

But after a blood-soaked, horror-esque birth, it quickly becomes obvious that there's something wrong with the baby. He's hairier than most newborns, has sharp teeth and nails, and his piercing cry seems to get louder and more disturbing the more time he spends around people. He only seems to calm down once he's close to the forest — the very place where he was conceived — and that's no coincidence.

"Nightborn" is another take on traditional changeling stories mixed with female-cenetred body horror, and a biting, pitch-black humor that may elicit more grimaces than laughs. That's okay since Bergholm designed it that way. And while her sophomore feature doesn't add anything unusual or innovative to this growing subgenre, "Nightborn" does well at employing all the familiar tropes and storytelling tools at its disposal. Seamlessly shifting between bursts of gore, crawling dread, and chaotic bonkersness, the film offers an eclectic collection of fundamental horror treats. It's a slow descent into parental madness that begins with the postpartum hell that new moms often go through: From bleeding nipples to a growing and dreadful paranoia with a tinge of depression, Saga's mental health deteriorates rapidly, but she's not going insane despite the fact that her whole family seems to think so.

The baby — which she names Kuura and whose face we're forbidden to see for the majority of the movie — does seem to be possessed by a devilish entity. No matter how much the doctors, relatives, and Grint's caring Jon say that he's normal, just a little different, we see that he's some kind of monster in disguise — craving blood more than his mother's milk. Thus we feel and root for Saga throughout as she does her best to love this monstrosity of a child in her own way, while also being desperate to prove (at least to herself) that Kuura isn't necessarily human. It's a portrayal that requires a delicate balance to maintain that Haarla delivers spectacularly with unwavering confidence and grit, even when Bergholm's script (which she co-wrote with Ilja Rautsi) falters on occasion by going a bit too obscure and ambiguous at certain points.

Folks who aren't familiar with Bergholm's previous work, "Hatching," might need some time to adjust to the director's singular approach, even if "Nightborn" is admittedly catered more to English-speaking audiences with its globally known British star. There are no flashy jump scares or full-blown gross-out massacres here, but a rather measured and very deliberate narrative that goes heavy on metaphors and uncanny vibes.

That said, "Nightborn's" stylish practical effects (with minimal CGI) and immersive atmosphere do revel in plenty of blood. And the mounting creepiness often gains its strength from the most mundane everyday things and familiar scenarios, be that the pains of early motherhood, the suffocating disapproval and judgment of grandparents, or a baby's relentless and ferocious crying. I won't say the message the film tries to convey becomes crystal-clear by the end (at least I had some trouble interpreting the final note and the haunting picture it lands on), but I don't necessarily see that as a weakness. In fact, "Nightborn" wants you to chew on the food for thought it has given you in its brief 92-minute runtime before you move on to consuming something lighter. Whether that's in your wheelhouse or not is up to you to decide, but keeping an open mind will definitely be a benefit if you choose this odd horror as your next watch.