The confession

The Confession stands out as one of those horror films that manages to draw on the familiar while finding ways to surprise its audience with multiple layers of personal history, folklore, and small-town unease. Written and directed by Will Canon, the film combines supernatural mystery with the weight of inherited guilt, blurring the line between family trauma and dark legend. At the heart of the story is Italia Ricci as Naomi, a struggling musician and recently widowed single mother who returns to her childhood home in Elba, Texas. What begins as a reluctant return quickly turns into a dive into a disturbing family secret when she discovers an old tape left by her father, a pastor. On it, he confesses to a murder he claims to have committed in self-defense against a sinister evil force. This single narrative element sets the stage for a horror story that relies less on jump scares than on the haunting traces of sins passed down from generation to generation.

What sets The Confession apart from more conventional supernatural horror films is its subtle and clever reinterpretation of the tale of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Unlike the more literal adaptations we've seen in recent years, Canon's version uses the Pied Piper as a symbolic framework rather than an obvious gimmick. The motifs of lost children, rats, and music serve as an unsettling backdrop rather than a central spectacle. Naomi's son Dylan, played by Zachary Golinger, becomes the unsettling linchpin of this mythological connection. His disturbing behavior, which ranges from shocking incidents at school, such as carrying around a severed goat's head, to more ambiguous signs of possession, embodies the Pied Piper's curse in a modern, suburban version. This is not a child written simply to shock, but rather a child who reflects the generational corruption Naomi discovers in her family's past. It is this blend of folklore and personal heritage that gives The Confession its unusual depth, forcing Naomi to confront not only supernatural evil, but also the moral compromises of her late father.

The chemistry between Italia Ricci and Scott Mechlowicz, who plays Naomi's childhood friend Grayson, is another strong element that avoids clichés. Their refreshing, non-romantic relationship gives the film an unexpected dimension. Instead of relying predictably on a rekindled romance, Canon emphasizes the comfort and discomfort of two adults reconnecting through shared memories and unresolved truths. Their investigation, at times reminiscent of dark Nancy Drew stories, provides both relief and momentum as they piece together clues left behind by Naomi's father. Supporting characters, such as Harling, a former seminarian played by Terence Rosemore, add texture to the investigation, balancing skepticism and spiritual knowledge in a way that avoids the tired caricatures of religious figures often found in horror films. Even the daughter of the missing troublemaker, played by Allie McCulloch, benefits from a nuanced performance, proof that Canon was keen to avoid flat archetypes in favor of complex personalities.

Visually, The Confession favors understated, natural tones, evoking films like The Haunting in Connecticut. This subdued palette makes the story itself feel like an old tale unearthed from the soil of this small Texas town, reinforcing the authenticity of the resurrected folklore. The atmosphere is one of silent terror rather than relentless horror, with carefully measured jumps that, while not groundbreaking, are effective enough to keep the audience on edge. Yet, as captivating as the film is, there remains a slight sense of déjà vu. Certain narrative elements and horror clichés are reminiscent of other films, and while the pied piper angle sets The Confession apart, some of its strongest thrills are tempered by their familiarity. That said, these echoes of genre history also work in the film's favor, giving it an aura that is both timeless and rediscovered.

What makes The Confession particularly intriguing is its central theme of guilt and legacy. The father's supposed “confession” becomes less of a final truth and more of a symbolic admission of generational decay. Naomi is not only fighting an external evil, but also the shadow of a father whose hypocrisy and moral compromises have tainted her identity. The film raises subtle questions about the extent to which evil is a supernatural intrusion or a deeply human weakness passed down through families. In a sense, the Piper is not just a folkloric villain, but a metaphor for a society's willingness to sacrifice its children, both literally and figuratively, to cover up its collective sins. It is this underlying current that elevates The Confession beyond a simple paranormal thriller and allows it to resonate on a deeper emotional and cultural level.

The Confession is both a frightening supernatural investigation and a parable about inherited responsibility. Will Canon demonstrates that horror works best when it operates not only in the shadows, but also in the consciousness. The performances, particularly that of Italia Ricci, bring humanity to a story that could easily have been consumed by its own mythology. While some of the scares don't linger and some elements feel familiar, the film's strength lies in its multi-layered storytelling and its refusal to reduce its characters to clichés. For viewers looking for a horror film that deals as much with human fragility as it does with supernatural terror, The Confession offers a captivating and unsettling experience that whispers as much as it screams, reminding us that the sins of the past rarely stay buried.

The Confession
Written and directed by Will Canon
Produced by Rosanna Eden-Ellis
Starring Zachary Golinger, Italia Ricci, Scott Mechlowicz, Terence Rosemore, Justin Matthew Smith, Allie McCulloch, Zachary Golinger, Ron Fallica, Jay DeVon Johnson, Vince Eisenson, Troy Rudeseal, Fleming Moore, Craig Kolkebeck
Cinematography: John W. Rutland
Edited by Kyle Walczak
Music by Dan Marocco
Production companies: Three Folks Pictures
Distributed by NC
Release dates: NC
Running time: 87 minutes

Seen on August 23, 2025 (Frightfest press screener)

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