Fantastic Fest 2026 Review: THE CYCLE is a Patient Creature Feature That Pays Off

[SPOILER WARNING: If you want to be fully surprised by the creature-feature reveal, DO NOT read this review.]

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In a just world, filmmaker Jordan Downey’s career would have blasted off after The Head Hunter in the same way Dan Trachtenberg became the Predator whisperer. May The Cycle ignite that ascension. Downey and co-writer Kevin Stewart put their creative spin on werewolf storytelling that, once unleashed, becomes a vicious you-haven’t-seen-this-yet wolfy bonanza. If you’re unfamiliar with Downey’s work (ThanksKilling, ThanksKilling 3, Critters: Bounty Hunter, V/H/S/Beyond), don’t worry, he’s a practical effects advocate. The werewolf creature designs are hand-crafted, and the throat-ripping attacks stay tactile. In Downey we trust, and the gory-feral-nasty half of The Cycle proves why.

Deborah Ann Woll stars as forensic anthropologist Dr. Meg Garland, a published, top-of-her-game professional admired by her colleagues. One day, at the “Body Farm” (where she teaches pupils the ropes), she’s presented with a curious corpse who happens to be her estranged, missing father of 34 years (Peter Stump, played in flashbacks by David Myers Gregory). Meg doesn’t balk; she joins the case, partnering with local officers Marks (Jeffrey Donovan) and his son Ian (Will Hochman). But as they investigate murder scenes where claw marks and brutal bites are the causes of death, all signs point to her father’s supposedly cold, lifeless body. Can a full moon reanimate the dead?

Be warned: The Cycle is a tale of two halves. It’s not particularly coy about what’s being teed up with the whole werewolf threat. I mean, read the title? But Downey’s strengths are his management of lower-budget monster mashes, and that’s true in The Cycle. The first act and then some slowly lays the groundwork for Meg’s strained family life, police investigations in a sleepy community, and your average crime-thriller mysteries. CSI: Transylvania plays a bit soggy without any of the howlin’ mad action to come (a while) later.

However, Woll’s resolve as the highly competent, always-in-charge Meg is a cut above. Hochman’s clean-cut lawman is introduced as a possible romantic interest, but that’s never important. Donovan’s top-dog knows his place, avoiding stereotypical dismissals of Woll’s specialist. Meg’s allowed to excel at her job and run point, which only clashes with coroner Ratterman (Jeb Berrier), but even he apologizes when conversations get heated. Downey gifts Woll a role she can command, and that helps usher us through all the maggot debates, stifled inevitabilities, and quieter casework that builds anticipation beyond comfortable points.

But when The Cycle morphs into its relentless werewolf creature-feature form, the mood changes. Downey invests heavily in fresh Lycan lore that is a delight to examine. He asks questions the subgenre never considered, stressing the malleability of traditional horror legends. The idea of a werewolf curse is handled in its bleakest, most dangerous sense, as videotapes of bitten victims unload test after test to try and prevent further carnage. What starts as a humble supernatural whodunit becomes a full-blown action-horror nightmare at breakneck speed, rewarding our patience for sticking with Meg’s unbelievable findings until they’re bashing down high-security steel doors—and using fancy retina scanners like secret agents.

Downey abides by the cardinal rule of werewolf cinema: if your monster ain’t passable, don’t bother. Truthfully, I can’t think of a recent werewolf movie off the cuff that outshines The Cycle’s transformation. The angular extensions, jutting features, protruding jawlines—it’s all gloriously practical and won’t stop happening. The result is an apex predator imposingly played by creature actor Trevor Newlin (Alien: Romulus, Smile 2) that squares off with a Dog Soldiers energy when toe-to-toe with human foes. Stewart’s cinematography (pulling double duty) embraces shaky-camera tactics during close-up feral maulings to hide puppetry when needed, which can hinder visual excitement. Luckily, that’s not a frequent necessity—Newlin has plenty of opportunity to showcase his animalistic side with fully snarling stunt capabilities.

The Cycle is a backloaded werewolf reshuffle for the patient horror viewer. Downey intriguingly wades into Lycanthropy and the justice system, making it a perfect double-bill with William Brent Bell’s lawyerly Wer. It’s hardly a front-to-back barnburner, but that’s by design. Not to say the methodical investment in Meg’s forensic profession and parental trauma excuses the slow-burn slinking of the first half. Still, Downey pays off his divisive pacing choices by punching into dog-will-hunt overdrive once his big bad wolf appears. He waits, he stalks, and still blows the damn house down once it’s all over.

Movie Score: 3/5