Fantastic Fest 2025 Review: WHISTLE is Nasty YA Horror With R-Rated Kills

Whistle is that applaudable brand of young adult horror that hits audiences with nasty R-rated death sequences. Corin Hardy’s new Shudder release has fun playing around in an “American High School” sandbox, calling back to favorites of his, such as A Nightmare on Elm Street and The Blob (1988). It’s the anti-Tarot—no cheap cutaways from gore, mass-marketable padding, or studio pandering. Much like Shudder’s Clown in a Cornfield, Whistle goes for the jugular—but with a little heart, too. 

Like, the soulful kind. Not just the “torn out and served on a platter” gore effects.

Writer Owen Egerton adapts his own short story into a lovely examination of life and death, despite the bone-crushing violence. Dafne Keen stars as Pellington High transfer student Chrysanthemum, aka Chrys, the central protagonist in Egerton and Hardy’s adolescent nightmare. She finds what turns out to be an ancient Aztec death whistle in her locker, unbeknownst to be the same artifact that claimed a former student. After it’s confiscated by beloved teacher Mr. Craven (Nick Frost) and stolen back by Chrys’ cousin, Rel (Sky Yang), things turn for the worse because kids are going to be kids. Grace (Ali Skovbye) blows the whistle, which beckons Death (the specter) to all who hear its wailing pitch.

The concept is rad; an engaging rearrangement of Final Destination. Whoever blows the carved-out instrument—which is alarmingly fashioned into a skull—calls Death to bring upon the demise they would have experienced however many years, weeks, or days later. A smoker who fast-forwards the stages of lung cancer in a matter of seconds, for example. No matter how grisly, unnatural, or accidental, we see victims meet their fates in full replication, which is a visual feast for horror fans. The ingenuity of recreating factory accidents and similar scenarios with invisible equipment delivers unsettling results, and Hardy beautifully (slash devilishly) brings Egerton’s concept to screen.

I can’t stress this enough—Whistle is grotesque. The film’s special effects department seamlessly blends practical and digital techniques to create such gratifying illusions of punishment. Where other films might be timid about slaying their younger-aged characters, Whistle’s greatest weapon is its fearless approach to splattering sticky body goop everywhere. There’s a particular death scene in there that I don’t want to spoil in the least (even if it’s predictable), because the breathtaking shock-and-awe on display is a true treat. Death’s not just sucking the life out of cheerleader hotties who would eventually die wrinkly and old; gruesome fatalities claim characters who are thrashed around, have their rib cages torn open, and are churned into red liquids while their peers watch in abject horror.

The Woodsboro-y, Springwood High development of Pellington High School is as caricatured as you’d expect. At 84 minutes, Whistle keeps non-horror scenes basic and believable (if a tad underserved). There are bursts of sweetness, whether Chrys fumbles playing “cool” while texting quick crush Ellie (Sophie Nélisse) or Grace’s kind words to Rel after he shoots his shot, but it’s of downgraded importance. Characters are stock outlines from Dean’s (Jhaleil Swaby) alcoholic and aggressive varsity jock to Rel’s comic-reading dork, molded from reused John Hughes blueprints. It works, however, never feeling like a cheap high school facade, but still follows a linear adaptation of all-American public school tropes.

What sets Hardy’s flick apart is the filmic personality he achieves through genre indulgences—and no, I’m not just talking about how “Mr. Craven” is smoking “Cronenberg” brand cigarettes (I see you). It’s the Octobered-out Harvest Festival’s haunted maze, dripping with hay-stacked and tasty Halloween vibes. Or prevalent messaging about how it’s harder to choose life than fear death, and what that says about our mortality. There’s worthwhile investment in horrific themes that draw us in and offer hopeful conclusions, even though brutality will headline all reactions. It’s not just about outsmarting Death and avoiding pain—it’s about having one life, and why that’s worth fighting for.

Whistle is, at its best, a lively and ferocious teenage slasher ditty that brings that breakneck overdrive appeal. Death isn’t going to look like a punk, making foolish kids pay for their mistakes without any mercy. Hardy does well to manage tone, terror, and a full-bodied horror experience that still finds a core vulnerability worth highlighting. And while horror is most certainly more than bloodshed and effects wizardry, that’s still on display with impressive results. Like I said, a full-bodied horror experience—even if those bodies are sent to the morgue in unidentifiable states.

Movie Score: 3.5/5