A medical student struggling with binge eating embarks on a diet that has her ingesting diet pills composed of human ashes.
If you had a moment of saying to yourself, “That’s not the craziest fad diet you’ve heard of,” join the club. Medical student Hana is stuck in an unhealthy cycle of binge eating and self-hatred. After developing a crush on Alanya, a trainer at her gym, she joins a 12-week program to transform herself. When an old friend credits dramatic weight loss to a pill called “The Gray,” Hana discovers it is made largely from human ashes and decides to make her own. To the surprise of absolutely no one, this does not end well.
Saccharine joins a growing wave of films exploring society’s continued and deepening obsession with thinness. It is not a new subject, but the film finds fresh and unsettling ways to examine why that pressure still has such a hold on us. No, it’s not subtle, but neither is diet culture. Fair warning going in, this could be a rough watch for anyone who has struggled with their weight or their body image. Body horror is designed to make its audience uncomfortable, and Saccharine understands exactly where to press.
Writer-director Natalie Erika James has a sharp understanding of the anxieties surrounding body image and knows exactly how to make them unsettling. She does not shy away from the more disturbing aspects of the subject. Still, she treats the material with a clear sense of purpose, using body horror to make Hana’s internal struggle painfully physical. It is still rare to see binge eating depicted on screen with this much specificity, making that aspect of Hana’s story especially impactful.
James makes several other smart decisions in setting an overall mood for the film. The sound design is masterful, building a constant soundscape of discordant, invasive noises that creates an almost visceral reaction in the viewer. Hana Peel’s jagged score builds on the anxiety and turmoil throughout the film.
Midori Francis, as Hana, gives an incredible performance. She manages to stay grounded and believable even as her situation spirals. This is not an easy role to play. With the wrong actor, it could feel exploitative or turn into a caricature. Francis remains sympathetic even as Hana is making infuriating choices. She is flawed and painfully human in a way the film needs in order to land properly.
Saccharine does stumble in a few places. Hana’s struggles with her self-image are rooted in a family history of weight issues, but the film never fully explores that thread in a satisfying way. There are also moments where the story repeats itself and the pacing briefly stalls. Still, the film remains engaging and uncomfortable in the way you want from a body-horror story.
Saccharine stays with you long after its final scene. At a time when we are inundated with filtered images on social media and celebrity culture increasingly frames GLP-1 drugs as a shortcut to transformation, the film feels especially topical. It taps into the self-hatred many people are taught to carry, making for a rough watch at times, but one that lands all the harder because of it.