FrightFest has unveiled Graham Humphreys’ stand-out poster design for 2026 which marks the 27th anniversary of the UK’s most popular genre festival.
Graham, one of Britain’s most highly acclaimed British graphic artists and illustrators, said today: “The iconic monster stays the same, but turning the sky an apocalyptic blood red seems to hit the mood of the brutal heatwaves frying Europe this year, whilst making a hefty reference to a staple of horror movies and the favourite drink of all vampires. In a world scammed by media manipulation and the relentless march of AI, the FrightFest mascot takes a turn at puppeteering and reminds us that when we are stripped of symbols and identities, we are all clattering bags of bones alike”.
This year’s annual Bank Holiday event, the UK’s largest celebration of genre cinema, takes place at Odeon LUXE Leicester Square and Odeon LUXE West End between Thurs Aug 27 & Mon Aug 31, 2026.
The line-up of films will be announced on Thursday 16 July, 2pm UK time.
They Wait in Shadows unfolds as a claustrophobic supernatural horror where a family home becomes the centre of something far older and far more dangerous than grief alone.
The film is directed by Sam Mason-Bell, known for Millennial Killer, and brings a tightly contained British horror setting that leans into isolation, guilt and buried history. It stars Jessica Hunt, known for The Truth Will Out, alongside Meghan Adara, known for Therapy.
The story begins with a sudden death that pulls two estranged sisters back to their isolated childhood home. Ingrid and Jenny return reluctantly, forced into proximity after years apart, each carrying unresolved tension and emotional distance that quickly resurfaces inside the house.
What starts as a strained family reunion shifts into something far more disturbing when an old Ouija board is discovered. A single decision to experiment with it cracks open a doorway to the other side, releasing malevolent forces that begin to inhabit the space around them.
As the sisters dig through the house and uncover long buried family secrets hidden within its structure, the line between memory and haunting begins to blur. The home itself becomes unstable, as if reacting to what has been disturbed.
They Wait in Shadows builds its horror from confinement and pressure, turning a personal tragedy into a supernatural collapse that refuses to stay contained.
Buried traumas take on physical form in Shadows of Willow Cabin, where unseen wounds return as something far more tangible. Actor turned writer-director Joe Fria, known for Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol. 2 and The Belko Experiment, makes his feature debut with a blend of queer romance and supernatural horror that leans into mood, intimacy and unease.
Following its UK premiere at Raindance Film Festival 2026, Shadows of Willow Cabin arrives on UK digital on 29 June 2026 via GrimmVision.
Albert (Bryan Bellomo), a closeted husband, and Devon (John Brodsky), a wounded soul, withdraw to a remote mountain cabin after a connection forms through sexually charged messages exchanged on a dating app. What begins as hesitation and curiosity gradually shifts into closeness, as the two men move towards intimacy in isolation.
The cabin itself soon becomes part of the story in a more unsettling way. The walls seem to whisper with voices that were thought to be long silenced. Reality begins to distort as the space turns hostile, drawing the pair into a supernatural loop where time fractures, ghosts appear, and repressed trauma takes on visible, terrifying shape.
As the situation tightens and survival becomes uncertain, Albert and Devon are forced to confront the secrets they have carried, both within themselves and between each other, before the cabin overwhelms them completely.
Shadows of Willow Cabin unfolds as a tense and disorientating descent into identity, survival and love pushed to its limit, set against a space where memory and fear refuse to stay buried.
Round the Decay arrives as a chilling new creature feature that digs into the buried sins of a small American town, turning a quiet return home into something far more sinister.
The film stars Melody Kay, known for Camp Nowhere and The NeverEnding Story III: Escape from Fantasia, alongside Damian Maffei, recognised for The Strangers: Prey at Night and Haunt. It is directed by Adam Newman, who builds the story around grief, memory and creeping dread.
The plot follows a grieving woman who returns to her sleepy hometown, hoping to confront her past and make sense of a tragedy that still lingers over the community. What begins as reflection soon turns into something far more dangerous when she uncovers a hidden cave.
That discovery awakens a centuries-old entity, dragging the town into a spiral of supernatural horror rooted in ancient curses and long-hidden corruption. The calm surface of the community begins to fracture as something old and hostile forces its way back into the present.
Round the Decay is set for UK digital release on 22 June and US digital release on 23 June from Seven Tales.
A new dark comedy horror feature arrives with a twisted premise, as pregnancy becomes the centre of a blood-soaked nightmare in this cursed tale of family terror and demonic birth.
Described as “a fascinating body-horror nightmare… delightfully demented horror comedy” by Film Threat, the film leans heavily into both gore and dark humour, building a tone that sits between unease and absurdity.
Starring Bill Moseley, known for The Devil’s Rejects and House of 1000 Corpses, and Lauren LaVera of Terrifier 2 and Terrifier 3, the film brings together a cast firmly rooted in modern horror. It is written and directed by Joe Lam in his feature debut.
The story follows Alessa, played by LaVera, who discovers her pregnancy is not behaving in any medically explainable way. Alongside her boyfriend Chris, played by Julian Curtis, she is forced to confront a reality that quickly spirals beyond control.
When the pair turn to Alessa’s estranged father Maddox, played by Moseley, they uncover something far more disturbing than expected. The pregnancy is revealed to be a satanic, bloodthirsty entity, setting off a chain of events that pushes the situation into full horror chaos.
Blending the unsettling influence of Rosemary’s Baby with sharp dark comedy, the film builds into a surreal and violent descent into panic, paranoia and body horror.
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy arrives with the weight of an iconic title behind it, though it soon becomes obvious that Cronin has little interest in simply recreating what audiences might expect from the franchise. Instead, he leans heavily into his own style of savage body horror, pushing things into darker and far more grotesque territory. That decision is likely to divide viewers. Some will feel completely thrown by it, while others may appreciate the sheer boldness of the approach.
“The young daughter of a journalist disappears into the desert without a trace. Eight years later, the shattered family is stunned when she suddenly returns home. What should have been a joyful reunion quickly descends into horror as she begins transforming into something deeply disturbing.”
The opening section is undoubtedly where the film feels strongest. Against the suffocating heat of Aswan, the descent into the hidden pyramid carries genuine tension and atmosphere. Cronin takes his time building dread, allowing the unease to settle before unleashing something far nastier beneath the surface. Those early scenes feel focused, unsettling, and genuinely creepy. Once the story turns its attention to the Cannon family, the emotional side of the film also works surprisingly well. Jack Reynor gives Charlie a believable sense of weariness and emotional collapse, while Laia Costa brings a quiet vulnerability to Larissa that helps ground the increasingly chaotic horror.
When the film fully embraces its horror elements, it does so with absolutely no restraint. This is not a subtle experience. It is gruesome, excessive, and at times completely unhinged. Cronin clearly favours practical effects and intensely physical imagery, resulting in several moments that are difficult to forget. The now infamous toenail sequence alone will make even hardened horror fans squirm, and the film constantly searches for fresh ways to unsettle its audience. There is a grimy, unpleasant texture to the horror that clings long after the film ends.
There is also genuine creativity in the way the possession storyline unfolds. The idea of ancient scripture carved into living flesh is a particularly strong concept, and the slow deterioration of those bindings creates an effective sense of inevitability. Horror fans may notice echoes of Evil Dead in places, though the film still manages to carve out its own identity. The Morse code communication adds an unexpectedly tragic layer beneath all the violence, suggesting the trapped child is still fighting from somewhere deep inside.
For all its strengths, though, the film struggles to maintain momentum across its lengthy runtime. At more than two hours long, the pacing eventually starts to wobble. Certain sections feel stretched out, with tension repeatedly building only to lose steam before having to start again. That uneven rhythm hurts the film most during the second half, where the story occasionally feels unfocused.
There is also the unavoidable question of whether this truly feels like The Mummy at all. Despite the title, the film rarely resembles a traditional reimagining of the classic property. Instead, it often plays more like a possession horror film dressed in ancient Egyptian imagery. At times, it feels closer in spirit to Cronin’s previous work than anything audiences would normally associate with this franchise. Anyone expecting sweeping adventure, gothic fantasy, or classic mythology may find themselves disappointed.
Still, the film is rarely boring. Its relentless commitment to excess keeps things entertaining even when the narrative drifts. The death scenes are inventive, the visuals are memorable, and there is a reckless energy running through the entire film that helps carry it over its weaker moments.
Ultimately, this works best when viewed entirely on its own terms. Ignore the expectations tied to the title and it becomes a brutal, often highly effective horror film with flashes of real originality. Compare it too closely to what people traditionally expect from The Mummy, and the cracks become far more noticeable.
It is messy, overlong, and occasionally loses focus. Even so, it remains memorable, deeply unsettling, and willing to push further than most mainstream horror films would dare. That alone makes it stand out.
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy ends up as a flawed but undeniably striking horror film, one that audiences will likely argue over for years. A solid 7 out of 10.
Building on the 2021 film, this sequel pushes straight into full tournament chaos, sending Earthrealm’s champions into a darker, louder and more openly game inspired interdimensional conflict. Johnny Cage sits at the centre, a faded martial arts actor pulled into Raiden’s desperate fight for Earthrealm, with Karl Urban bringing a dry, self-aware humour that keeps things grounded even as the film spirals into constant combat and shifting loyalties.
The action is where it really finds its strength. The fight scenes are sharp, impactful and clearly staged, carrying a raw physical edge that feels closer to 1990s martial arts cinema than modern polished fantasy spectacle. That decision pays off. There is no attempt to soften the violence, and fans of the games will recognise a steady stream of signature moves, familiar characters and brutal finishing blows brought to life with real commitment.
A strong sense of play runs through the film as well. It never takes itself too seriously, and that blend of humour and gore gives it a distinctive rhythm. Johnny Cage adds levity without deflating the stakes, while the wider cast helps maintain momentum even when the narrative becomes crowded. For fans, the sheer volume of characters and references feels like part of the appeal, with deeper lore and more fighters than any previous instalment.
Visually and tonally, it leans fully into its identity. It is loud, messy in places and deliberately rough around the edges, almost like it has chosen character over refinement. That will divide opinion, but it also gives the film a personality that sets it apart from more restrained modern action films.
There are flaws. The pacing is inconsistent, with sections that linger too long before snapping back into high intensity. Even at a relatively lean runtime, it can feel stretched, particularly when it shifts between multiple story threads and competing factions. The plot is dense and occasionally overloaded, and it struggles to keep all its character arcs moving cleanly at once.
Reception will likely depend heavily on prior familiarity with the franchise. Dedicated fans and genre viewers will probably embrace the excess, while those less invested may find it chaotic and overbearing. It does little to ease newcomers in, and that choice inevitably narrows its appeal. The result is very much aimed at those already on board.
Even so, it lands more positively than not. Mortal Kombat II knows exactly what it is, commits to its tone, and delivers a spectacle driven martial arts fantasy without hesitation. It is violent, playful and proudly old school in spirit. Despite uneven pacing, it maintains enough energy and entertainment to carry it through.
On balance, it works as a confident sequel that understands its audience and delivers accordingly. A solid 8.5 out of 10.
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