By Mark Hockley
I Majid Al Ansari’s The Vile begins as domestic unease and blooms into full-bodied horror. Amani’s husband returns to their home in Abu Dhabi with a second wife — Zahra, young, pregnant, and unsettlingly composed. What starts as heartbreak quickly turns suffocating, as Amani realises this new presence isn’t just a rival but a force that seems to be unmaking her family from the inside.
The film’s power lies in its restraint. Al Ansari builds terror through light, silence, and claustrophobic framing. The home, sleek and sunlit at first, becomes a labyrinth of cold corridors and whispered sounds. The sense of something wrong creeps in gradually — less an invasion than a corrosion. By the time the supernatural edges into view, the emotional damage is already complete.
Bdoor Mohammad gives a remarkable performance as Amani — fierce, frightened, and painfully human. Iman Tarik as Noor, her daughter, mirrors that fragility with raw honesty, while Sarah Taibah’s Zahra hovers between victim and villain, a performance that keeps you guessing until the last reel. Their chemistry turns the house into a psychological battleground.
There are pacing lulls early on, but once the story tightens its grip, The Vile becomes hypnotic. The final act delivers images of real dread — not through spectacle, but through implication. Al Ansari understands that the worst horrors are often domestic: a locked door, a sudden silence, a husband who looks at you and no longer sees you.
It’s a rare horror film that works as both a haunting and a social mirror. In exploring polygamy within the UAE, it exposes a different kind of possession — one rooted in control, erasure, and fear of replacement. That’s what makes The Vile linger long after it ends: it’s not about what’s inside the house, but what’s inside the marriage.
The Vile screened as part of London Film Festival 2025.
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