Olivia Taylor Dudley Stuns in ‘Abigail Before Beatrice’ [Brooklyn Horror Fest 2025 Review]
Cult horror is a lot like shark horror. It’s been done before, and it’s been done so remarkably well, every subsequent entry is, almost by default, stuck living in its oppressive, seductive shadow. Sean Durkin’s Martha Marcy May Marlene, featuring the debut of Elizabeth Olsen, remains the most startling, haunting cult genre film ever made. Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala’s The Lodge doubled-down on the horror, and it ranks among the century’s best because of that. That puts Cassie Keet’s Abigail Before Beatrice, screening at this year’s Brooklyn Horror Fest, at an innate disadvantage. There’s so much that works, but I’ve heard its scripture before.
Still, Abigail Before Beatrice has one key strength, and that’s Olivia Taylor Dudley’s
(The Magicians) eponymous Beatrice. This is the best Dudley has ever been before, and without the indie circuit constraints, a just world would recognize Dudley as part of this year’s larger awards conversation. She’s not just exceptional, all things considered—it’s a transcendent, textured, and overwhelmingly considered performance. I don’t use all-timer lightly, but, yeah, Dudley is more than the real deal here.
The nuance of her post-cult trauma propels Abigail Before Beatrice through the conventional cult rhythms we’ve seen a dozen times before. There’s a rural farm, an incredulously seductive white man, and lots of transcendental hooey about being chosen, destined for something bigger than the dregs of normal society would ever allow. It’s sinister and opaque at the same time, and while that’s a strength, it also lacks resonance. When conceptualizing what a cult is, especially in the United States, it’s rarely of the explicitly insidious variety depicted in film. Abigail Before Beatrice wants to unnerve with shocking genre elements and violence, undermining its early, more nuanced strengths.
There’s efficacy in the horror of other people, and for the first third, Beatrice is in the present, navigating an unmoored life beyond the cult. She grapples with newfound love, residual substance use, and a profound, painful sense of loneliness and isolation. That’s resonant and haunting. Weird rituals under the moonlight are less so. That’s artifice, yet Abigail Before Beatrice is at its best when it eschews embellishment for distinctly human fears.
The context is engaging. True crime podcasts. Unanswered questions. Dudley’s broken visage, so painful, yet so familiar, it’s impossible to turn away from. Her performance remains perfect, even when Abigail Before Beatrice is too eager to block her in increasingly genre-themed scenes. Cult leader Grayson (Shane Herndon) is obviously bad news, and the provocative modulations of his mood instill more terror than a blade to another member’s throat. Stick a knife in Jonestown already, please.
All in all, Abigail Before Beatrice is an uneven bag. Dudley shines beyond belief, and Keets’ script is often well-realized, instilling strong verisimilitude and universality into an otherwise singular story. It’s the commercial demands that hold it back. So, while this cult may have amounted to little, something tells me Keet and Dudley will lead us into the promised land their next go-round.
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Abigail Before Beatrice
Summary
Olivia Taylor Dudley is a true sensation.
Categorized: Reviews
