Fantastic Fest 2026: CORPUS (2026)
Desire can be a heady, tricky thing. When it flickers within us, it can’t help but raise a burning pile of contradictions within us. We know we want someone, or something, but how do we want them? As their own being, or as someone we can possess? CORPUS, which had its U.S. premiere at Fantastic Fest last month, takes these questions about Queer desire, and puts them in conversation with body horror
The story of three friends in the underground party scene of 1990s New York, CORPUS begins with an audition that turns sinister, quickly. The young model at the center of the photoshoot being done is wide-eyed and completely unprepared for the direction the job will take. The scene feels familiar: a young girl in the snares of some sexually deviant breach of trust. We’ll come to see later that this isn’t entirely true. After this prologue of sorts, we meet Sayo (Jeffrey Wahlberg), a burgeoning photographer documenting the slick and shiny world of New York’s clubs and warehouses. He and his wealthy playboy buddy, Ross (Michael Vlamis) spend their nights checking out the scene and missing their former friend who made it big in the modeling world, Vince (Brodie Townsend). When Vince comes back into their lives for a night, the tenuous spark between him and Sayo is reignited, and the newly minted big shot invites the boys over to an industry party out of town that weekend. The pair agree, but instead of a bustling rager full of big names, they meet three women: high-fashion photographer Billie (Lily Cowles), Wren (Nuha Jes Izman), and Cata (Ching Valdes-Aran). As the weekend unfolds in the trio’s remote mansion, the boys will discover that they might have signed up for more than they bargained for.
Directed by Corrin Evans (who also co-wrote, with Lily Cowles), CORPUS takes this interesting premise and runs with it, using the fraught connection between Sayo and Vince to fuel the body-swapping mayhem that is to come. It’s clear that the pair have history, and Wahlberg and Townsend play this tension well, riding the line between friendship and romance with every gesture. It’s a tension that builds until it is unbearable and the fault lines between the connection the two men have start to show when the trio arrives at their remote getaway in the country. Vince has been seemingly leading Sayo on for years of their friendship, and Sayo doesn’t know if they can make something real happen beyond the physical connection they share. Little do they know their physical, sexual connection will gain a new meaning after the movie reveals that the three women at the mansion are actually the souls of three completely different individuals, inhabiting bodies of other people as a means of extending their lives.
This premise is where CORPUS starts to get a little unwieldy, with the movie not giving any distinct explanation of the dark magic at hand. We are only privy to a few things about this transformation: the exchange must be done with the use of a plague-doctor-adjacent mask where the beak-end is placed gingerly inside the mouth of the person who will be giving up their body, the person on the mouth end of this exchange must say they want “all of” the wearer of the mask, and the old body is left behind like a gummy skin suit wherever the exchange was made. It’s a cool premise, and makes for at least one steamy scene between Ross and Billie, where an act of submission transforms from something sexual to someone literally submitting their body for the use of another. However, as the movie rolls on, it becomes clear that the premise could have been fleshed out, or at least more background could have been shared about the trio of (maybe eternal?) beings that have been living this transient life for an undetermined amount of time. Is this part of a larger cult? Why target creative people? Why use the masks? It’s a fine thing for a horror film to leave ideas up to their audiences, but some larger explanations could have made this premise even more intriguing and given it shades of depth that are just not there otherwise.
That isn’t to say CORPUS is a bad time at the movies. It’s clear from the beginning that the cast is committed to all the gross (and sexy at times) vibes the movie is bringing. Wahlberg is particularly good at projecting the very real confusion that can come with queer desire: do I want this person, or want to be them? Vlamis is also a great player here, game for everything from being the silly, roguish comedic relief the film needs at times to harnessing some real vulnerability in sexier, scarier scenes. There is also something to be said about how the film is conflating this kind of body-swapping with codependence, particularly with Vince and Sayo. Their bond is strong, and Sayo even has vivid, crimson nightmares about it where the pair literally blend together.
CORPUS has a lot of questions and ideas about desire, codependency, and what it means to want to live inside someone else’s skin. It doesn’t really answer them, though, opting for a fun film with a premise that can only go so far.
