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(Fantastic Fest Review) COYOTES is an Eco-Horror with a B-movie bite.

By. Professor Horror 

 

                                                                  

Living outside of Chicago, I’m used to getting the occasional Ring doorbell alert about a prowling coyote. They’re not exactly wolves hunting in packs, but they’re also not the cute, howling tricksters of cartoons. Coyotes are survivors, opportunists, and scavengers. And if you’ve got a small dog like I do, the thought of a midnight walk can feel like a gamble. So, it was with a strange sense of dread and familiarity that I settled into COYOTES, premiering at this year’s Fantastic Fest, a film that takes those suburban sightings and turns them into a full-blown eco-horror scenario. While it never quite leaps into campy absurdity like Cocaine Bear, it plays gleefully in the “when animals attack” tradition, walking a fine line between B-movie gore and serious ecological allegory.

The setup is as immediate as it is relatable. A young woman walks her tiny dog and comes face-to-face with a coyote, an opening that cues every dog owner’s deepest fear. From there we meet the central family: Scott (Justin Long), the workaholic father; Liv (Kate Bosworth), the mother trying to hold the household together; and Chloe (Mila Harris), the perpetually eye-rolling teenager. Their Los Angeles home is already under siege from less cinematic pests (rats in the walls) when bigger threats roll in. A storm cuts the power, emergency services are swamped, and the family finds themselves isolated just as the coyotes begin circling the neighborhood. The house, which should be a refuge, becomes both a trap and a lure, as it is a place marked by garbage, weakness, and opportunity.

                                    

What makes COYOTES work is how grounded its premise feels. Stories in the Los Angeles Times and National Geographic have long documented the movement of coyotes into urban neighborhoods, driven by habitat loss from wildfires and the sprawl of development into once-untouched terrain. Scientists from the Urban Coyote Research Project often emphasize that these animals aren’t apex predators in the traditional sense, but rather survivalists with an uncanny ability to adapt to human leftovers…garbage cans, fallen fruit, and yes, unattended pets. By rooting its horror in this reality, the film never feels like fantasy. Instead, it leans into plausibility, exaggerating an ecological problem into a cinematic nightmare that feels just a few steps away from a news headline.

At the heart of this film is the unsettling recognition that humanity created the very conditions for its own terror. Los Angeles residents expanded into the hills, paved over ecosystems, and left food sources scattered in the streets. The coyotes are not moral villains, but they are opportunists doing exactly what humans do…taking whatever is available in order to survive. This mirroring becomes one of the movie’s sharpest thematic strokes. While the characters scramble to keep their family together, they themselves behave as scavengers. Scott picks at scraps of time between work commitments, Liv tries to salvage moments of normalcy in a house overrun by vermin, and Chloe scavenges attention from distracted parents. The coyotes at the door aren’t just intruders, but they’re reflections of the very survival strategies the family enacts every day.

                                     

Genre-wise, COYOTES operates like a home invasion thriller but with nature as the aggressor. When the storm knocks out power, traps the roads, and silences outside help, the house transforms into a vulnerable fortress, echoing the dread of films like The Strangers or You’re Next. The difference is that the invaders are not masked killers with psychological motives but wild animals responding to hunger and opportunity. That shift in perspective is crucial. It strips away any possibility of negotiation or reasoning and underlines how fragile human control becomes when natural systems decide to bite back. The intrusion of coyotes into the domestic space is not only terrifying but symbolic of nature reclaiming its place. Stylistically, the film knows it’s playing in B-movie territory and embraces that identity. The comic book–style introductions for each character provide a playful touch, signaling to the audience not to get too attached since many of these faces are destined for coyote fodder. Yet even in its pulpiness, the film threads a line of sincerity. The gore ranges from quick CGI snaps to surprisingly gnarly practical effects that showcase the full scavenging power of the beasts. These bursts of violence never feel gratuitous, but instead, they reinforce the idea that nature is not malevolent but merciless, that survival comes at a bloody cost.

Ultimately, COYOTES is not polished Hollywood spectacle, but that’s precisely its appeal. It thrives on pulp charm while sneaking in serious reflection on ecological imbalance and human consumption. It makes us laugh at over-the-top character beats, recoil from messy gore, and then sit back uncomfortably as we realize the coyotes at the door are our own creation. Premiering at Fantastic Fest, it stands as both a love letter to creature features of decades past and a timely reminder that the line between human civilization and natural chaos is thinner than we’d like to believe. For horror fans who enjoy their monsters with a touch of realism and their B-movies with a side of allegory, COYOTES is a howling good time. Just maybe keep that leash tight the next time you step outside. 

COYOTES will be heading to theatres October 3rd.