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(Fantastic Fest 2026) LITTERMATES Gives Good Behavior a Reward...and Identity a Price

By. Katelyn Nelson

Dark comedy is sort of a hard-sell subgenre to me. All too often, things being pitched as “dark comedy” come off, in my eyes, as heavy and dramatic, with most twists of added humor feeling more in bad taste than anything else. For me this almost always ends up going one of two ways: either I’m having more of an emotional—though satisfying—time than anyone else (see my reading of MISPER from Chattanooga Film Festival), or I’m writing the film off as not to my taste and moving on. Just because it doesn’t work for me doesn’t mean it didn’t work for others, after all. One of the offerings from the 2026 Fantastic Fest, however, has managed to defy my own odds and successfully dance the dark comedy tightrope.

Directed by Michael Woloson and Scott Tinkham and written by Tinkham, LITTERMATES unfolds amid an unnamed war, opening on Chester (Oliver Woolf) encountering a stunned victim, Liam (Joey Bader), in the woods. Liam is so traumatized as to be non-responsive, so, in an act of good Samaritanism, Chester brings him back to his own cottage and begins a process of rehabilitation that, in part, includes speech therapy so they might be able to better communicate with one another. The setup is childlike, and sort of puts you on edge that not everything is to be trusted. Liam even gets his own name because Chester gave it to him, not because he ever mentioned it was what he was called before. Not long after Liam has made enough progress to be trusted alone, he and Chester encounter Mel (Kaylee McGregor), another war-stricken victim they soon decide to take under their wings in the same manner as Chester took Liam.

Because neither of them starts out able to verbalize anything, Chester names them both himself, and sets up a reward system for their advancement. Every time they do well in something, they receive a small token called a “nifty”, which they can redeem with Chester for rewards like “karaoke night” and “hot tub”. The only two conditions are that neither of them can leave, and they must go to the shelter as soon as the alarm system goes off indicating an imminent attack.

In COMPLIANCE, Katelyn Nelson finds another struggle over control and autonomy as a corporate PR representative becomes trapped inside a surveillance nightmare built around who gets to control the story.

The atmosphere of LITTERMATES, even at its lightest, smacks of that feeling of trying to laugh your way out of an uncomfortable situation. This is in no small part thanks to the strength of the three central performances. Woolf, Bader, and McGregor excel at toeing the line between danger and trust in their interactions with each other in any combination, which successful keeps a sometimes understated undercurrent of tension going even at karaoke night.

Any narrative involving someone restructuring another person’s identity worth its salt is going to keep its finger on the horror pulse even when it doesn’t appear to. With that kind of power and ability in another person’s hands it’s easy to imagine the threat of becoming something meant to bend to the teacher’s will rather than reconnecting with your own individual identity. From the first moment the dynamic is set up, that suggestion of horror never truly lets up—though LITTERMATES does make an effort to toy with the power dynamic in interesting ways. Namely, the differences in how Liam and Mel each respond to being rehabilitated and named paint an intriguing mirror image of how each of them survives.

Joey Bader plays Liam as incredibly childlike, but also much more passive and fearful than Mel. He accepts everything Chester tells him or does to/for him without question or pushback and is palpably hungry for approval. Mel, meanwhile, comes on the scene much more dominant and defensive. She’s wary of Chester’s affection as much as she pursues approval, and chooses her own name. Bader and McGregor play off each other remarkably well as situational-siblings while maintaining the undercurrent of people who have just encountered one another for the first time, still feeling one another out and investigating each other’s limits.

I have seen LITTERMATES get a lot of comparison to DOGTOOTH, and its tonal oddity certainly warrants it. For me, it was one of the most unexpectedly enjoyable of Fantastic Fest’s horror offers, though not one I am seeing get a lot of talk. Even aside from the gender dynamics of survival at play here, there’s a needle-drop about halfway through that is more than worth the price of admission.

And Katelyn's Fantastic Fest coverage isn't done getting weird. Next up is SQUIRREL, a festival discovery which looks at dystopian life with no animals and how one squirrel can bring back humanity.