Scream Therapy (2023) Review
Writer-director Cassie Keet (Abigail Before Beatrice) takes scream therapy to the next level in her absurdist horror feature debut. Following its premiere in the US, Scream Therapy comes screeching onto UK digital this April, courtesy of Miracle Media.
Following a messy breakup with her boyfriend of seven years, Avery (Harley Bronwyn – Bring Him to Me, Appofeniacs) and her best-friends head out to the desert for a girls’ weekend in search of solace and restorative scream therapy.
After a long day of therapeutic bonding exercises – and a little acid – the trip takes a deadly turn when the girls are visited by a demotic incel cult, with a very pressing deadline for human sacrifice.
As the girls are forced into the impossible decision of kill or be killed, the moronic men realise they have messed with the wrong women. What follows is a deadly pursuit of chaos and revenge as they attempt to outwit and outlast the demonic henchmen.
Grab your besties and get ready for a dark comedy with plenty of heart and even more screams.
There was little in the early buzz around Scream Therapy to inspire confidence. Between its outlandish premise and a wave of conspicuously enthusiastic online praise, it seemed easy to suspect that familiarity—friends, family, or festival goodwill—might be inflating its reputation. That assumption, as it turns out, was misplaced. Writer-director Cassie Keet’s film is a genuine surprise: a sharply entertaining piece that proves far more effective than expected.
That said, expectations may need recalibrating. Despite its billing, Scream Therapy functions far more convincingly as a straight comedy than as a horror-comedy hybrid. While it gestures toward darker themes, it neither unsettles nor genuinely frightens. Instead, it leans confidently into humour—and, crucially, knows when to stop. Its brisk pacing ensures it never overstays its welcome.
Narratively, the film does not always withstand scrutiny. Certain plot mechanics invite obvious questions—chief among them the dubious logic of repeatedly selecting victims from the same location while drawing attention to oneself in the process. Yet to dwell on such inconsistencies is to somewhat miss the point. Scream Therapy is not interested in airtight realism; its priority is momentum, tone, and entertainment.
What ultimately carries the film is its cast. Their chemistry is easy, their performances energetic, and their enthusiasm consistently engaging. Even when the story follows a predictable path, the sheer likeability of those on screen keeps the experience buoyant. Surprises may be in short supply, but enjoyment is not.
In the end, Scream Therapy succeeds not as a genre-bending horror outing, but as a lively, crowd-pleasing comedy—one that wins you over not through innovation, but through charm and confident execution.
On digital 6 April from Miracle Media