Review: Heathens (2026) – I am Film Rogue and I’m a Witch.

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Heathens is what happens when a coven gets a documentary crew, a Wi-Fi signal, and absolutely no ability to de-escalate. It’s a witchy mockumentary that treats modern occult life like a reality show with spell jars—until it remembers it’s also flirting with horror and decides to raise the stakes with curses, paranoia, and a livestream meltdown. The official listing frames it as a fake documentary about six witches and their internal drama, and the film commits to that “friend group implosion” energy.

Spoiler-Free Summary

A documentary crew follows a modern coven of six witches as they explain their practices, feud over ethics (especially cursing), and spiral into rivalry-fueled chaos. What starts as quirky day-to-day witchcraft culture gradually tilts darker as interpersonal conflict becomes weaponized—via hexes, binding, and public humiliation—culminating in a final stretch where social media and superstition collide.

“Six witches. One documentary crew. Infinite ways to make it worse.”

Review

What works–

Mockumentary voice is the engine. The film’s best stretches feel like The Office wandered into The Craft and nobody told HR. The talking-head cadence is strong, and the comedy lands hardest when it treats witchcraft like a mundane coping mechanism for adult life—money spells because rent is a demon, protective rituals because dating is warfare, etc.

The escalation curve is funny… then weirdly tense. The movie keeps returning to the idea that curses are both “real” inside the coven and also a social weapon. That’s fertile comedy. The “list of people who deserve it,” the bickering about who cursed who, and the sheer willingness to weaponize belief are where the satire bites.

Set-piece comedy pops. Highlights include:

The interrogation-style bits that spiral into “past-life” accusations (“Did you own slaves?” / “Were you a Nazi?”), which are designed to be cringe-comedy detonators.

A dead-serious debate about cursing as if it’s an HR policy violation.

The “binding spell using sex magic” confession dropped like it’s a parking ticket.

“A coven that can summon energy, but can’t summon emotional regulation.”

What doesn’t work (or misfires)

Some jokes swing into “punching down” territory. There’s material that leans on stereotypes (including a line about policing and race) and stretches of Nazi/Hitler talk that read less like satire with a target and more like “improv went too long without a safety rail.” Those moments break trust: mockumentary comedy survives on precision, and these bits feel sloppy rather than sharp.

Tonal whiplash shows up late. The film wants three things at once—hangout mockumentary, occult satire, and “things might actually get dangerous”—and the transitions can feel abrupt. When it works, it feels like comedy sliding into consequences. When it doesn’t, it feels like the movie changed genres mid-argument.

Ending and payoff (light spoilers)

The finale pivots into public-platform warfare (livestreaming, reporting, “hate speech” moderation, trolls/fay mythology) and lands on a punchline-driven resolution rather than a horror “final boss.” That choice fits the mockumentary DNA: the most powerful spell in the movie is still social friction—plus an app’s delete button.