Mashmallow

Marshmallow is one of those rare horror films that begins with the familiar comfort of a well-established genre before completely turning the tables. Directed by Daniel DelPurgatorio in his feature debut and written by Andy Greskoviak, the film initially seems destined to follow the well-trodden path of the summer camp slasher, a genre that has been exploited ad nauseam since Friday the 13th. But what makes Marshmallow remarkable is not only how it plays with our expectations, but also how it injects a touch of science fiction into its camp-out horror, transforming what could have been a forgettable film in the wake of the slasher revival into something strange and surprisingly moving.

At the center of the plot is Morgan, played with incredible sensitivity by Kue Lawrence. Morgan is not your typical horror movie protagonist. He's a fragile, introverted 12-year-old boy who is still mourning the sudden death of his beloved grandfather Roy (played by Corbin Bernsen). His mother, played by Alysia Reiner, sends him to Camp Almar in the hope that the summer will help him overcome his grief and social anxiety. But the camp is anything but a peaceful haven. Morgan quickly becomes the target of bullies, particularly the venomous CJ (Sutton Johnson), and is tormented by his own realistic nightmares in which he drowns. These nightmares are so well staged that they become disturbing in their own right, immediately plunging us into the perspective of a child for whom the world is oppressive and dangerous. It's the kind of opening that recalls the spirit of old Amblin films, but in a much darker version, and this is where Daniel DelPurgatorio's experience in short films really comes into its own: he knows how to immediately captivate the audience.

The Almar camp itself is staged with all the clichés you'd expect: the swimming area, the archery range, the mischievous counselors who slip away for romantic trysts, and, of course, the inevitable story told around the campfire. This is where counselor Rachel, played by Giorgia Whigham, tells the legend of “The Doctor,” a sinister figure who once haunted the camp and conducted grotesque experiments on the children. At first, it seems like just a scary story meant to terrify the campers before bedtime. But soon, Morgan begins to see a figure in the woods, dressed in a surgical gown and equipped with a miner's headlamp, and the story quickly takes a terrifying turn. Filip Vandewal's cinematography makes the Doctor's silhouette as iconic as it is frightening, his white suit and sterile mask giving him a haunting clinical presence that lingers long after the credits roll.

What sets Marshmallow apart from countless other camp slashers, however, is the choice to center the horror on the campers themselves rather than the counselors. It's a risk that could easily have collapsed under the weight of child acting, but Kue Lawrence is joined by an impressive troupe of young talent. Max Malas is particularly memorable as Dirk, a cruelly nicknamed outcast who forms a touching and believable friendship with Morgan. Their bond gives the film an emotional dimension and elevates it above clichés. Kai Cech shines as Morgan's crush, Pilar, while Winston Vengapally, Dylan Friedman, and Jordyn Raya James round out a motley crew of children who are as endearing as they are resilient.

 Their chemistry is reminiscent of The Goonies or Stranger Things, and watching them face danger together is one of the film's greatest pleasures. The adult actors, meanwhile, rely more on archetypes, sometimes deliberately so.  The arrogant counselor Kaczmar, played by Pierson Fodé, is written with a joyfully antagonistic energy that makes him interesting, while Maxwell Whittington-Cooper and Paul Soter play more or less competent authority figures. But it's the kids who drive the story, which makes the stakes higher and the atmosphere more perilous. Horror rarely places children at the center of terror, and this simple change adds a unique level of unease. Marshmallow's brilliant idea lies in its refusal to remain confined to the codes of the original genre. What begins as a typical slasher film gradually reveals itself to be something closer to an episode of Black Mirror or even a twisted Goosebumps story elevated to the status of a movie. The third-act reveal, which critics and audiences have wisely chosen not to spoil, recontextualizes everything that came before, propelling the story into the realm of science fiction and leaving audiences stunned. I remember sitting in a crowded festival theater when this revelation took place; the collective gasp, followed by nervous laughter, was proof that Marshmallow had achieved what all independent horror filmmakers dream of: a genuine surprise in a landscape where everything seems predictable.

If there is one flaw, it is that the film spends so much time carefully building its atmosphere and characters that once the twist arrives, there isn't enough time left to fully explore its implications. The third act feels rushed, with ideas that deserve to be developed further. But perhaps that's also part of its charm: it leaves you wanting more. The suggestion of a larger mythology lurking beneath the surface of Camp Almar is enticing, and one can only hope that Daniel DelPurgatorio and Andy Greskoviak will have the opportunity to develop it in a sequel. Technically, Marshmallow far exceeds its capabilities. The Kentucky camp setting, captured with unsettling authenticity by production designer Lexy Pazul, is both nostalgic and sinister. Nicholas Elert's score is remarkable, oscillating between playful motifs reminiscent of summer camps and thrilling suspense notes that heighten the tension. And while the film isn't drenched in blood, the moments of violence it does feature are carefully chosen and memorable, balancing accessibility and horror in a way that makes it an ideal horror film for those new to the genre, perfect for a young audience ready to take the plunge, while being complex enough to captivate seasoned fans.

Andy Greskoviak's screenplay, while occasionally a bit overloaded, is brimming with clever ideas and a genuine love for the genre. And the young cast, led by Kue Lawrence, ensures that the film has a heart beating beneath its mask of horror. Watching Marshmallow is like finding an old VHS tape in a video store, popping it into the player expecting something disposable, and discovering a lost gem instead. At once nostalgic and avant-garde, familiar and surprisingly original, this film may not be perfect, but it offers an experience that stays with you, the kind of film you want to talk about afterwards, desperately trying not to give away its secrets. For horror fans tired of tired formulas, Marshmallow proves that there are still stories to be told around a campfire. Ultimately, Marshmallow is more than just a slasher film: it's a film that plays with our collective memory of horror cinema, lulling us into a sense of comfort with archetypes we think we know, only to shatter them in shocking ways. Daniel DelPurgatorio demonstrates an obvious talent for creating atmosphere, directing children with care, and delivering a gripping and successful spectacle.

Marshmallow
Directed by Daniel DelPurgatorio
Written by Andy Greskoviak
Produced by Warner Davis, Todd M. Friedman
Starring Kue Lawrence, Kai Cech, Winston Vengapally, Giorgia Whigham, Max Malas, Maxwell Whittington-Cooper, Pierson Fodé, Alysia Reiner, Corbin Bernsen, Paul Soter
Cinematography: Filip Vandewal
Edited by Andy Palmer
Music by Nicholas Elert
Production companies: Hemlock Circle Productions, The Warner Davis Company
Distributed by Quiver Distribution (United States)
Release dates: April 11, 2025 (United States)
Running time: 82 minutes

Seen on August 23, 2025 (Frightfest press screener)

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