Keeper on Myflixer: The Story Behind the Divisive Horror

There’s a specific kind of exhaustion that sets in after a long work week, a mental fatigue that can only be cured by unplugging completely. For me, that usually means sinking into the couch and finding a good movie to get lost in. It’s a simple pleasure, the act of scrolling through new releases, looking not for a life-changing masterpiece, but for a well-told story that can hold my attention and transport me somewhere else for a couple of hours. This past weekend, I was in the mood for something unsettling, a film that could build a genuine sense of dread, and a new horror release seemed like the perfect escape.

That’s how I landed on Keeper. The film came with a certain pedigree, directed by Osgood Perkins, a name that’s been on the lips of every horror fan lately. After the massive successes of Longlegs and The Monkey, Perkins has become a brand unto himself, a director you turn to for intelligent, atmospheric scares. My expectations were set for a chilling folk-horror experience, something meticulously crafted and deeply unnerving. I opened Myflixer and pressed play, ready for the slow, creeping dread Perkins is known for. What I got, however, was a journey into a far more divisive and artistically compromised territory than I ever expected.

A Promising Descent into Darkness

In any horror film that relies on atmosphere over jump scares, the opening act is everything. It must establish a fragile sense of normalcy, a quiet world just waiting to be shattered. This is where a director earns the audience’s trust, promising that the slow burn will be worth the wait. Keeper understands this assignment perfectly in its first twenty minutes, laying a foundation of subtle, creeping unease that is both beautiful and deeply unsettling.

The film introduces us to Liz (a magnetic Tatiana Maslany), a painter, and her partner, Dr. Malcolm Westbridge (Rossif Sutherland), as they arrive at a secluded cabin to celebrate their one-year anniversary. The premise is a familiar one, but Perkins and his cinematographer, Jeremy Cox, infuse it with a "gorgeously creepy" aesthetic. The woods feel ancient and watchful, the cabin isolated and full of unspoken history. Every frame is composed with an artist’s eye, creating a visual language of dread that hangs heavy in the air. The initial dynamic between Liz and Malcolm is layered with a tension that feels real and intimate, hinting at secrets just beneath the surface.

This carefully constructed peace, however, is built on a foundation of lies, and it doesn't take long for the first crack to appear.

When the Cracks Begin to Show

Just as the isolation begins to feel truly palpable, the film introduces new variables, a classic horror trope designed to escalate tension. Unexpected guests arriving at a remote cabin are a time-honored narrative device, meant to disrupt the status quo and act as a catalyst for the horrors to come. In Keeper, this is the point where the film should tighten its grip, but instead, it’s where its hold begins to loosen.

The disruption comes in the form of Malcolm's cousin, Darren (Birkett Turton), and his quiet girlfriend, Minka (Eden Weiss). Their arrival feels intrusive and off-key, but it’s Minka who delivers the first concrete piece of ominous foreshadowing. When Liz mentions a mysterious cake left for them in the cabin, Minka leans in and warns her in perfect English that it "tastes awful." This, coupled with Liz's increasingly strange visions—fleeting images of screaming, bloodied women and a pregnant doppelgänger—should be terrifying. In one of the film’s most surreal sequences, Liz is drawn to the cake in the middle of the night and devours it, even after discovering severed fingers nestled in the frosting.

Yet, despite this disturbing imagery, the execution falls flat. This is the point where, as a viewer, I felt my initial investment begin to wane. The film’s pivot to familiar genre conventions feels like a retreat from the unique atmosphere it so carefully built. The surrealism, while visually interesting, feels disconnected from any grounding logic, clashing with the slow-burn dread of the opening. This aligns with some critical views that the film feels "surprisingly boring" in stretches, as its unsettling moments fail to build into a cohesive, escalating narrative suitable for a binge-watch on https://myflixer.one/. Instead of deepening the mystery, the film starts to meander, sacrificing suspense for a brand of weirdness that ultimately doesn't connect to the story's final, lore-heavy destination.

While the narrative begins to fray, the film's central performances remain a point of focus. Before we dissect the film's ultimate revelations, let's look at the key players who brought this disjointed vision to life.

Key Cast & Production Crew

• Director: Osgood Perkins
• Writer: Nick Lepard
• Tatiana Maslany as Liz
• Rossif Sutherland as Dr. Malcolm Westbridge
• Birkett Turton as Darren Westbridge
• Eden Weiss as Minka
• Cinematographer: Jeremy Cox
• Composer: Edo Van Breemen

A Twisted History Unearthed

The third-act reveal is where a mystery film lives or dies. It’s the moment all the disparate threads are meant to weave together into a shocking, satisfying tapestry. For Keeper, this is where it lays all its cards on the table, and the story it tells is one of grim, generational violence, though the revelation feels more convoluted than cathartic.

The film’s major twist is a dark piece of folk-horror lore. Malcolm reveals that 200 years ago, he and his cousin Darren were just adolescents when they discovered a pregnant woman trespassing on their land. After shooting her, they locked her in a pigpen, where she gave birth to a litter of strange, inhuman creatures before they killed her. In a Faustian bargain, the men have spent the last two centuries luring women to the cabin to feed these creatures in exchange for an unnaturally long lifespan. The screaming women in Liz’s visions are their past victims, and the drugged cake was meant to make her the next sacrifice.

This revelation reframes the entire film, turning it from a simple cabin-in-the-woods story into a grim commentary on perpetual male violence. The reveal is certainly grim, but I found myself questioning if the narrative groundwork had been sufficiently laid to support its weight. The backstory arrives as a sudden exposition dump from Malcolm, and it fails to satisfyingly explain the surreal imagery that came before. The visions of severed fingers and pregnant doppelgängers don't feel like logical precursors to this specific 200-year-old pact, making the twist feel more tacked-on than organically earned.

Essential Film Statistics

• Genre: Folk Horror
• Release Date: November 14, 2025
• Distributor: Neon
• Budget: $6 million
• Worldwide Box Office: $5 million
• Runtime: 99 minutes

An Ending That Divides and Disappoints

Crafting a horror conclusion that is both shocking and satisfying is one of the genre’s greatest challenges. An ending needs to provide a sense of closure while still leaving the audience with a lingering chill. Keeper aims for a subversive, thematically extreme finale, but in doing so, it created a polarizing experience that ultimately alienated its audience.

In the film’s final sequence, Liz is locked in the basement with the creatures. Instead of attacking her, they embrace her, recognizing her resemblance to their murdered mother. This acceptance transforms Liz; her eyes turn completely black, and she becomes an agent of their vengeance. She finds Malcolm, who has aged rapidly, suspended from a tree. After forcing the drugged cake into his mouth, she calmly drowns him in a jar of honey containing the preserved head of the creatures' mother. It is a brutal, ritualistic, and deeply nihilistic conclusion.

This ending is the key to understanding the film’s abysmal "D+" CinemaScore. Mainstream audiences, the kind who participate in these opening-weekend polls, are conditioned to expect the "Final Girl" trope—a heroine who survives through wit and resilience. Keeper violently subverts this. Liz doesn't survive; she is consumed and reborn as something monstrous. By denying the audience a triumphant hero and offering a bleak transformation instead, the film veered too far into arthouse territory for its own commercial good. Does its artistic ambition justify a conclusion that so thoroughly repels the average moviegoer?

My Final Take: An Ambitious Failure

When the credits rolled on Keeper, I was left with a feeling of profound conflict. There is much to admire here, from Tatiana Maslany’s fiercely committed performance to the "gorgeously creepy" atmosphere that Perkins so skillfully crafts in the film's early moments. However, these strengths are ultimately overshadowed by a story that critics have rightly called "narratively unsatisfying" and "too half-baked."

The crucial context, I’ve since learned, is in its production. Keeper was a quick, low-budget project conceived and shot in Canada during the 2023 Hollywood labor disputes. It was written by a non-union Canadian writer, Nick Lepard, and filmed rapidly with Canadian actors while Perkins’ larger project, The Monkey, was on hold. This "side-project" nature is felt in every frame. It lacks the polish and narrative cohesion of Perkins' other recent work, feeling more like a raw experiment than a fully realized film.

Ultimately, Keeper stands as a fascinating failure. It is a commercial flop and a critical disappointment, yet it serves as a compelling case study in creative compromise under pressure. While it failed to connect with a broad audience, its bleak vision and atmospheric ambitions may find a small, dedicated following among horror aficionados on Myflixer who appreciate flawed but audacious experiments. For me, it was a haunting reminder that even the most promising descents into darkness can sometimes lose their way.