Theater Is Dead

Theater Is Dead, directed by Katherine Dudas, arrives with an immediately appealing concept: a Faustian horror comedy about the world of theater kids, ambition, and the dangerous line between sacrifice and obsession. Premiering at Fantastic Fest, the film quickly established itself as one of the most talked-about titles of the festival, both for its joyful irreverence and its obvious respect for theater as a world of dreams, rivalries, and chaos. At its core, the film is a love letter wrapped in a curse, asking not only what art can demand of you, but also how far you are willing to go to be in the spotlight.

At the center of this story is Willow, played with authentic verve by Decker Sadowski, a character who begins as an engineering student seemingly destined for a practical and quiet life. Her past hints at something more turbulent—her father was once an actor—and when a renowned director named Matthew, played with devilish charisma by Shane West, arrives to stage The Women of Trachis, she auditions almost on a whim. Against all odds, she lands the lead role, and from that moment on, the film slowly begins to reveal ambition turned ritual. The stage here is not just a rehearsal room, but an altar, and each line spoken feels more like an invocation than a performance.

The ensemble surrounding Willow is a mosaic of archetypes recognizable to anyone who has ever set foot in a theater class: the competitive best friend Taylor, played with mischievous energy by Madison Lawlor; the dropout Shannon, to whom Olivia Blue brings bite and comic talent; and the taciturn Zac, played by Colin McCalla. Director Katherine Dudas's own experience in the performing arts shines through in these interactions: the jealousies, the exaggerated emotions, the intoxicating need to perform not only on stage but also in life itself. These are portraits imbued with authenticity, and for those familiar with this world, the accuracy is both amusing and scathing. Outsiders may find themselves faced with a language they cannot fully translate, but that is part of the film's charm and limitation.

Matthew Malvigo, played by Shane West, dominates the screen as equal parts mentor, seducer, and tempter. He embodies the archetype of the director who is less human than mythical, dangling dreams of transcendence as bait for his actors. It's no coincidence that his presence is reminiscent of Mephistopheles; the entire film plays with the idea of a pact with the devil, a metaphor that resonates far beyond the stage. Many Hollywood legends—Dwayne Johnson, Jim Carrey, Sylvester Stallone—are often mythologized for their humble beginnings and miraculous rise to fame. Theater Is Dead subverts this mythology, suggesting that these meteoric rises always come with a hidden and terrible cost. Watching Shane West relish this role, particularly in the frenetic final act, is one of the film's greatest pleasures.

The horror takes a while to arrive, and this pacing is both a strength and a frustration. Early on, the film relies heavily on satire, reveling in the absurdity of small-town productions, impromptu warm-ups, and ego clashes between amateur actors. For anyone who has experienced these moments, the recognition is immediate and hilarious. But for those who came to Fantastic Fest looking for horror, the delay feels like a provocation. When the supernatural finally bursts in—possession, bloody rituals, and a blood-drenched climax—the shift in tone is chaotic but thrilling. One death in particular is so daring, so bizarrely staged, that it almost justifies the long wait. It's theater as spectacle, horror as parade, and the finale feels like it might deserve a standing ovation.

What remains after the credits roll is not so much the plot itself, which can sometimes collapse under the weight of its own kitsch, but the way the film captures the intoxicating microcosm of show business culture. The film's best moments echo the duality of theater, both sanctuary and trap, where applause can be addictive and ambition corrosive. Willow, played by Decker Sadowski, embodies this transformation, going from ingénue to avenger, her journey mirroring the character she plays in the doomed production. It's a subtle commentary on how art changes us, often in ways we can't control.

Of course, the film isn't without its flaws. Katherine Dudas' direction, while brimming with passion, sometimes seems torn between two ambitions: to caricature the world of theater with affectionate satire and to deliver a horror story that is as scary as it is entertaining. The balance is uneven. The middle of the film gets bogged down in its theatrical jokes, while the horror moments, when they finally arrive, rush by with almost frenetic energy. The result is a film that delights insiders and baffles outsiders, leaving some viewers fascinated and others alienated. Nevertheless, this roughness is part of what gives the film its independent spirit; it may lack polish, but it makes up for it with energy and conviction.

Theater Is Dead works both as a satire and a dark coming-of-age story, a film that simultaneously celebrates and condemns the ethics of theater kids. Katherine Dudas hasn't created a perfect fusion of horror and comedy, but she has crafted something bold, messy, and undeniably entertaining. At its peak, the film feels like Glee crashed headfirst into The Devil's Advocate, a collision of kitsch, ambition, and demonic flair. And despite all its flaws, it forces you to confront that eternal question: how much of yourself would you be willing to sacrifice for the chance to stand in the spotlight, even if only for one fleeting night?

Theater is dead
Directed by Katherine Dudas
Written by Katherine Dudas, Olivia Blue, Decker Sadowski, Madison Lawlor
Produced by Katherine Dudas, Olivia Blue, Decker Sadowski, Madison Lawlor, Jacob Nichols, Shane West, Juan Mas, Zach Mann
Starring Shane West, Madison Lawlor, Colin McCalla, Stephanie Suganami, Olivia Blue, Decker Sadowski, Tammy Tavares, Julie Wittner, Dylan Adler, Jacob Nichols
Cinematography: Ryan Zemke
Edited by Gianluigi Carella
Music by Pam Autuori
Production companies: Halfway Crooks Entertainment
Distributed by NC
Release dates: NC
Running time: 88 minutes

Seen on September 18, 2025 (press screener Fantastic Fest 2025)

Mulder's Mark: