Fantastic Fest 2026 Review: SICK Lives Up to Its Title

Sick is for the sickos; low-hanging fruit, but there’s no better description. Agata Trzebuchowska’s erotic-tinged thriller is a twisted tale of forbidden desires and familial boundaries. It’s tastefully taboo and lethally lustful, even by the standards of freer European standards. Trzebuchowska has an eye for intimate storytelling as her Polish import dangles impurity in front of characters like a carrot on a string. Whether they take the bait is what keeps us engaged, as tension edges on the cusp of erupting for an impressive duration.

Konrad Kakol stars as 16-year-old Maks, who’s spending his summer holiday playing caretaker to his ailing grandmother (played by Monika Niemczyk). He’s alone in the countryside, with only his smartphone and isolation, until older sister Emma (Katarzyna Lubik) arrives. At least Maks has company now, but Emma isn't much help. Maks tries to sneak away and give in to his hormones, texting a cute Instagram girl, but “babcia’s” increasingly strange behaviors when not unresponsive in bed require both siblings’ attention—if Emma can stop teasing Maks.

And by teasing, I mean flirtatiously and suggestively tormenting poor Maks. He’s a teenage boy with no outlet; he’s a strong gust of wind away from arousal. Emma’s merciless as she touches his inner thigh while watching movie sex scenes or as she applies sunscreen to his back, straddling Maks and rubbing sensually, despite their blood relation. Sick’s incestuous playfulness is a strange turn that generates healthy levels of suspense, given how Maks isn’t exactly batting Emma away. Discomfort feeds upon perversion, driven by a brother-sister relationship on the cusp of deviant indecency.

However, Trzebuchowska’s oddly compassionate about the setup. There’s a comfort between Maks and Emma; two teenagers stuck spending their summer playing nurse instead of pursuing their own lives. Sick carries an air of innocence robbed, something both characters desperately want back. It’s almost like their psychotic sexual cat-and-mouse game is an act of rebellion. They’re playing with fire as youngens are wont to do, as we look on with suspicion, holding our breath in anticipation of making the bad choice we’re so afraid they’ll choose.

Then there’s Niemczyk’s elder, who drives the straightforward horror anchor of the film. At first she’s frail, only found outside her bedroom in strange positions—bent over, staring at random vantage points. But then she starts to heal, forcing Maks and Emma into awkward scenarios like they’re a decade younger. Maks goes from peeling dead skin off her back during her assisted shower to being forced to bathe naked with Emma, or share bunk beds in the attic. Power dynamics shift as Niemczyk’s grandma regains her energy and control of her home, a complication atop Maks and Emma’s too-close-for-comfort relationship.

What’s impressive is Trzebuchowska’s ability to let unease linger. Kakol and Lubik are phenomenal together in their respective roles, holding us hostage with their subtlest actions. We’re looking for any sign that Maks knows better, yet Kakol’s timid gazes and sneaky peeks at his sister’s figure make us nervous. The same for Emma, as Lubik wavers between “big sister who bullies lil’ bro for entertainment” and “big sister in a porno who wants to make lil’ bro into a man.” It’s such a delicate, dangerous game Trzebuchowska’s playing, but her actors are more than up to the task. As is Maciej Edelman’s cinematography, capturing their slow-burn escalation in meditative camera work that refuses to look away. 

And yet, Sick can feel a tad padded. An interaction with nice-guy neighbor Szymon (Julian Swiezewski) is meant to instigate Maks at a pivotal moment, but plays more like tacked-on drama. There’s also a tonal hiccup when Niemczyk becomes more energetic, throwing Trzebuchowska’s story out of balance. Illusions about Niemczyk’s condition are everywhere; there’s a very fork-tongued quality about everyone’s actions with duplicitous glints. But the third act can feel like a swerve you need to adjust for, which hiccups momentum.

Still, Sick is a sweaty, simmering, and sublimely fearless feature debut for Trzebuchowska. To bare such fragile terrors is a profound risk, and yet the film keeps reeling us in, wriggling on its hook. There’s as much to be said about Trzebuchowska's ability to haunt us with primal urges as there is about her cast’s ability to ease our disbelief. It’s a premise that shouldn’t work, frankly, yet here we are. Beautiful for all the wrong reasons: a wallop of an ending that eats at you from the inside out.

Movie Score: 3.5/5