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(Popcorn Frights Review) When Class Becomes a Cage: TEACHER'S PET and the Inescapable Grip of Toxic Relationships

By. Professor Horror 

                                   

Some lessons you never forget…and some you can’t escape. Premiering at Popcorn Frights, Noam Kroll’s TEACHER’S PET is a razor-edged psychological thriller that doesn’t just trade in slasher scares. Instead, it digs into the unsettling reality of toxic relationships, especially those reinforced by uneven power dynamics. Through the story of a gifted high school senior ensnared by a dangerously obsessive teacher, the film examines why walking away from an abuser isn’t always as simple as recognizing the abuse.

Clara (Michelle Torian) is a brilliant but isolated senior whose life is already in flux when her English teacher dies mysteriously. Enter Mr. Heller (Luke Barnett), the new hire whose easy charisma and apparent interest in Clara’s academic potential initially feel like a lifeline. Clara’s foster mom (played by horror icon Barbara Crampton) sees Heller as a positive influence. But it doesn’t take long for Clara to see past Heller’s polished façade, sensing the control and manipulation lurking beneath his carefully constructed charm. From that point, TEACHER’S PET becomes less a simple stalker story and more a claustrophobic chess match between predator and prey. Clara is smart enough to recognize Heller’s abuse, even bold enough to name it out loud to multiple people. She calls him out to his face more than once. But each attempt to break free is met with Heller tightening the noose, exploiting his position, manipulating her support system, and growing more powerful in the process. The film drives home a cruel truth: knowing you’re in danger doesn’t always mean you can get out, especially when your abuser controls the terrain.

                                               

One of the film’s most chilling sequences encapsulates this dynamic. Heller shows up at Clara’s home, performing the role of caring mentor for her mother’s benefit, slipping seamlessly into the “good teacher” persona. The scene unfolds in a visual tug-of-war. Clara and Heller occupy separate frames, connected by an eyeline match that keeps them locked in combat even when they’re not sharing space. Neither can infiltrate the other’s frame. Clara’s resolve keeps her from being drawn in, but Heller’s power shields him from being pushed out. The world beyond them dissolves into soft-focus blur, a subtle visual reminder that when you’re locked in a toxic power struggle, everything else fades away. This focus on the psychological stalemate is what makes TEACHER’S PET feel more unnerving than a straightforward thriller. Kroll crafts the relationship not as a one-note predator-victim narrative, but as an escalating series of manipulations, each tightening Clara’s cage. It’s a study in how abusers leverage institutional authority, charm, and selective truths to maintain control even when exposed. For Clara, every victory is partial, every confrontation a reminder that the system around her (school, home, even the legal process) isn’t built to protect her.

                             

The film also channels the creeping domestic dread of The Stepfather (1987), where a seemingly perfect male figure insinuates himself into a family, earning the trust of the people who matter most to the protagonist while privately tightening his grip. Like The Stepfather’s Jerry Blake, Heller thrives on dual identities (affable guide to the public, calculating predator in private) and the suspense comes from watching Clara try to dismantle that disguise before it swallows her whole. Therefore, performances carry much of the film’s impact. Michelle Torian makes Clara’s intelligence and resilience as obvious as her vulnerability, grounding the character in quiet, human moments that keep her from feeling like a stock “final girl.” Luke Barnett plays Heller with a calculated mix of warmth and menace, making his transitions between the two unsettling in their plausibility. And Barbara Crampton, in a smaller but crucial role, brings lived-in authenticity to the foster mom whose guarded optimism makes her susceptible to Heller’s performance. And all of this is accentuated with Kroll’s direction as he leans on visual language to emphasize the film’s themes. The aforementioned soft-focus backgrounds during Clara and Heller’s face-offs create a visual isolation chamber. The use of framing often traps Clara in tight spaces while giving Heller open, unconfined environments, which makes the imbalance of power evident. Even in moments where Clara holds the verbal upper hand, the cinematography reminds us she’s still boxed in.

                           

If there’s a lesson here, it’s one horror has been quietly teaching for decades: monsters don’t always hide in the shadows. Sometimes they stand in the front of the classroom, shaking your hand, earning the admiration of the people you love. And when they decide you’re theirs, no amount of truth-telling automatically sets you free. Escaping isn’t just about bravery, but it’s about dismantling the power structure that allows them to keep coming back. At its Popcorn Frights world premiere, TEACHER’S PET will screen alongside a triple bill of Barbara Crampton classics (Re-Animator, From Beyond) as part of a night celebrating one of horror’s most enduring icons. It’s fitting that the film anchors such a lineup, not just because of Crampton’s presence, but because TEACHER’S PET understands the kind of fear she’s made a career out of exploring. The fear isn’t the monster in the closet. It’s the teacher who twists trust into control, the brilliant roommate who bends life and death to his will, or the mentor who pries open your mind only to claim it for himself.