The Serpent’s Skin
Alice Maio Mackay has established herself as a powerhouse in indie filmmaking, cranking out stylized horror films that capture your attention from the very first frame. In her 6th feature film, the 21-year-old trans director tackles queer horror romance. The Serpent’s Skin follows Anna, a young trans woman who finally left her judgmental parents and moved in with her sister in the city. But Anna’s meek exterior hides secret supernatural abilities she shares with her new lover and tattoo artist, Gen. Their passion accidentally summons a demon, making relationship building way more complicated.
Jordan Dulieu (Danny) gives us an emo rocker heartthrob and villainous mayhem with equal fire. He is genuinely mesmerizing. Avalon Fast (Gen) is great. Her delivery is so natural, you might think she’s in a documentary. Alexandra McVicker (Anna) brings innocent ingénue energy. The three have stellar chemistry. I not-so-secretly wanted a threesome scene between them. Shout out to Intimacy Coordinator, Zoe Taylor, for the overall hotness. 
MacKay has a neon-saturated visual calling card and always provides a kick-ass soundtrack. Another genius collab with The Adams Family in H6LLB6ND6ER. Iris Mcerlean‘s costumes are all effortless cool girl. Mackay tackles self-harm, identity, sex, and magic; it’s a lot to balance. If I’m being nitpicky, the film’s pacing slows slightly in the second act, making it feel a bit long before the momentum picks up again in the final Act, which cooks. High five to my girl, Vera Drew, for her editing. Can we discuss the connection between power and orgasm? Yes. The final two lines of The Serpent’s Skin are smirkworthy perfection.
The Serpent’s Skin Trailer:
Opening in:
New York, March 27 | Los Angeles, April 3
** With filmmaker and special guests in attendance **
More dates below & to be announced
85 mins / Australia / 2025
Directed by: Alice Maio Mackay
Written by: Alice Maio Mackay, Benjamin Pahl Robinson
Produced by: Alice Maio Mackay, Louise Weard
Starring: Alexandra McVicker, Avalon Fast, Jordan Dulieu, Scott Major, Charlotte Chimes
Edited by: Vera Drew
Cinematography by: Aaron Schuppan
Composers: Alexander Taylor, Eduardo Daniel Victoria
Music by: H6LLB6ND6ER
Festivals: Beyond Fest, BFI Flare: London LGBTIQ+ Film Festival, Brooklyn Horror Film Festival, Fantasia Film Festival, Frameline: San Francisco International LGBTQ Film Festival, Frightfest, Melbourne Queer Film Festival, NewFest – The New York LGBTQ+ Film Festival, SXSW Sydney, and more
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Dark Star Pictures has released the new theatrical trailer for Alice Maio Mackay’s The Serpent’s Skin ahead of its upcoming North American theatrical release, which kicks off on March 27 in New York City and on April 3 in Los Angeles.
At only 21-years-old, the trans Australian filmmaker has announced herself as a talent to watch, and her latest film had a celebrated world premiere at San Francisco’s LGBTQ+ film festival Frameline and enjoyed a buzzy run with stops at Beyond Fest, Fantasia Film Festival, London’s Frightfest, NewFest, and more.
The Serpent’s Skin is Maio Mackay’s most ambitious film to date, combining her distinct filmmaking voice—known for channeling genre tropes through a trans lens, her innovative approach to aesthetics, and a unique wit—with a larger scope that leans into a darker storyline and a loving influence of 90s cult television like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Charmed.
The film will open in New York at the Alamo Drafthouse Downtown Brooklyn on March 27 and in Los Angeles at the Alamo Drafthouse DTLA on April 3—as part of a special Fantastic Fest Presents showcase—with Mackay and special guests in attendance for opening nights.
Additional screenings with director Q&As include the Roxie Theater in San Francisco on April 2 and Vidiots in Los Angeles on 4/4, with further cities and dates to be announced.
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The Peril at Pincer Point
SXSW 2026 Watchlist
100 NIGHTS OF HERO
Religious and political parallels are undeniable magic. The dialogue is a modern version of a bawdy Shakespeare comedy, cleverly tongue-in-cheek and playing right into toxic masculinity. Even our three main characters’ names are pure, double-entendre delight. 100 NIGHTS OF HERO weaves fable, witchcraft, and feminism seamlessly. 
Xenia Patricia
Maika Monroe
I ONLY REST IN THE STORM
Portugal-born, Brazil-based filmmaker Pedro Pinho tackles racism in an unfiltered, confrontational manner. The dialogue is no-holds-bar and yet entirely calm in its honesty. Alongside Sergio, the audience is thrust into a lively group of queer friends, who argue among their own ranks about blackness and identity. It feels very intimate to witness. It’s a head-on white savior complex reckoning. The longer you watch and learn, white behavior feels very self-congratulatory, regardless of true intentions. 
Performances are spectacular. The immersive cinematography is a character all its own. The film often feels like a documentary with elders casually dropping facts about colonialism in social settings. I ONLY REST IN THE STORM captures you in its boldness, if you can hold on for the three and a half hour runtime. While it would undoubtedly benefit to cut that time in half, you cannot deny the meandering plot points. Each is strong, but as a whole, the film is a five-course gluttonous meal. 
Before we were married, my husband and I abandoned our lives in New York and moved to Hyderabad, India, so that he could work for a local microfinance institution. He and I, both white, served more as a spectacle, fully owning our privilege as we navigated endlessly intrusive questions and the knowledge of our ability to leave the city on our own accord. To be the minority was an eye-opening experience. I ONLY REST IN THE STORM plays for a predominantly white NYFF audience. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall after yesterday’s premiere. One can only imagine the justifications over cocktails.
SHE LOVED BLOSSOMS MORE
The boys flitter between trials, doing whatever drugs they can procure, speaking with utter nonchalance about their intentions. Hedgehog, clearly consumed by sadness, eagerly claws his way towards his ultimate goal. Obsession takes hold.
Cinematographer Christos Karamanis brings the viewer inside their drug trips, of which there are many, blurring the lines of reality. Fair warning: if you are sensitive to light or sound, the film can be overwhelming, but inarguably hypnotic. Performances, particularly Panos Papadopoulos, are fantastic.
Sci-fi extravagance aside, Veslemes takes audiences on a visceral and emotional ride into darkness. There is no denying SHE LOVED BLOSSOMS MORE is a WTF, jaw-dropping watch.
Few films have been able to pull off the one-shot feat. SCURRY owns it. Here is a team that has total trust, impeccable timing, and chemistry between the cast and crew, leading to cinematic magic. The element of enveloping darkness, a small, unpredictable light source, and the blurry infrared of a camcorder create relentless dread.
Jamie Costa and Emalia (
Best Picture: CAMP, directed by Avalon Fast
FANTASTIC PITCHES 
Zahra asserts herself as a savior in Noor’s life, flattering her, consoling her, and even intimidating her school bullies. But quickly, Zahra pushes boundaries. Noor’s hobby is photography, specifically of dead animals. Zahra talks her into a picture no one should take. While Amani flails to piece the ensuing madness together, Noor falls back on Zahra’s sway. THE VILE comes to a head as a simple birthday celebration brings darkness to the entire family.
Bdoor Mohammad creates a tangible desperation as Amani. You will easily root for her, particularly when it comes to the emotional dynamics between her and her husband. His oppressive hand will likely infuriate the audience, but it is clear Al Ansari did his research. Mohammad captivates at every turn.
This heartwarming doc has some amazing personalities. Audrey is Sound. Her infectious wonder is the epitome of SILVER SCREAMERS. David is Special Effects. With his puppeteering skills, the film’s villain comes alive. Diane is in charge of Makeup. Her theatre background is key to her role. Sonny is the Camera Operator. He is reactivating the dreams of his youth.
The team takes on their jobs with a refreshing enthusiasm. Watching each one tackle their assignments is like a boot camp into the complexities of filmmaking. Editor Lee Walker delivers an incredibly engaging montage of their initial endeavors. The opening credits are integrated into the film’s storyboards. It’s a brilliant device.
SILVER SCREAMERS acts as an advocacy pitch for art therapy at every age. Wait until you hear the ADR session. It’s a riot. The horror homage final scene is the cherry on top. Fantastic Fest audiences are in for a real treat.
Parts Two & Three: now wandering the land, the animals in tow, Gaspar’s existential crisis continues as he meets spirits, resides in a manor, converses with religious icons, all while Ogre and his minion pursue him. The film is A LOT. Green continues his signature style with static cameras capturing 4th wall-breaking deadpan delivery. Honestly, it will either be a winner for audiences or a total miss. The complexity of satire is laugh-out-loud funny, but outside intellectual circles, it might be a tough pill to swallow.
HAPPYEND
This predominantly young cast is incredible. Yukito Hidaka is captivating as Kou. His brooding aura and genuine wonder are the perfect foil for Hayato Kurihara‘s intense Yuta. Each actor wears their heart on their sleeve.
Based in part on her 2017 film BIRTH OF A FAMILY, Tasha Hubbard brings her scripted narrative debut to TIFF 50. MEADOWLARKS stars Michael Greyeyes, Carmen Moore, Alex Rice, and Michelle Thrush as four Cree siblings who were separated by the Sixties Scoop, who are meeting for the first time as adults.
Performances are fantastic. Each character is incredibly nuanced. Four siblings with varying goals for the trip and vastly different personalities. But what links them is far deeper than the ways in which they were raised by white families.
For more TIFF coverage, 
A father wishes to compliment the chef for his signature dish, only to discover that an actual shrimp is responsible for the deliciousness. In this mockumentary-style short, The Shrimp insinuates that his entire schtick was stolen by the Disney rat. The two then compete on a food competition reality show. The producers secretly chat with the man under The Shrimp, Chef Dave. Shrimp is a foul-mouthed asshole, for lack of a better word. Shenanigans ensue, confessions reveal themselves, and insults fly.
There are multiple Shrimp puppet creations. The smaller version sits on Yung’s head, and a larger-scale handheld puppet fills the screen for the sit-down interviews. The detail is award-worthy. Puppeteers Benjamin Fieschi-Rose, Kirsten Brass, and Amelia Blaine are spectacular.
For all things Fantasia, 
The consequences of going down that rabbit hole, sometimes literally, are a barrage of repressed childhood memories and the instability of her mother’s treatment. Mia’s trips reveal a trauma monster, more specifically, one made of mom’s blond locks. This hair monster torments Mia throughout her jacked-up journey.
Caitlin Acken Taylor is everything. Mia Sunshine Jones is no easy role, but Taylor lives it. She even creates Mia’s paintings and sculptures. Her fourth wall break, and the precise moment at which it occurs, is jarring and genius. 
After a bus ride on her way out of town gets cut short by a sighting of her local crush, Cleo’s infatuation becomes a way of life that maybe isn’t what she intended. Her mother, Lady Andre, comes looking for her and mistakes a passing moment for the end of her legacy.
Jessica Paré delivers a vivacious performance as Lady Andre. She is eccentric and demanding, but is undoubtedly battling unresolved wounds. Skylar Radzion is Josephine, the hairless sibling in the bearded family. She is a spitfire and a slick foil for Cleo.
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