Two Witches writer/director Pierre Tsigaridis and co-writer Maxime Rançon push possession horror into extreme territory with their sophomore effort, Traumatika. Gory excess and genuine nightmare fuel get Tsigaridis’ latest off to a strong start, but its disjointed storytelling and well-trodden trauma metaphor counteract its strengths. It’s multiple films in one, and not for the better, as it tries to pack in too many ideas for its brief runtime.
Traumatika opens in Egypt in 1901 to establish the demonic entity that’ll unleash traumatic chaos: Volpaazu, the taker of children. Once the biblical origins are laid out and a violent death ensues, the film jumps to 2003, where a terrified young Mikey (Ranen Navat) escapes long enough from his captor, a terrifying possessed woman named Abigail (Rebekah Kennedy), to dial 911. While Mikey’s terror is ramping up, Traumatika also tracks the events that led to Abigail’s possession and its profound effect on Mikey’s future.
The film is at its strongest in scenes that see an inhuman Abigail stalk her terrified young prey across a grimy, dilapidated house. There’s a tangible sense of evil and unpredictability, with Kennedy’s menacing portrayal instilling genuine discomfort. Tsigaridis hasn’t yet revealed his hand to explain away the possession, and the lack of handholding in these earlier stretches goes far in building suspense and atmosphere.
That’s almost instantly deflated once Tsigaridis shifts gears for a different type of extreme horror, one that introduces a grim, trigger-warning-worthy cycle of sexual abuse. It’s not just the subject matter and the way Traumatika lingers on moments of skin-crawling abuse that prove jarring, but the nonlinear structure the filmmaker employs to drive his heavy-handed metaphor home with a sledgehammer. Sean O’Bryan surpasses Kennedy in terms of creep factor for his deeply disturbing portrayal of Abigail’s abuser, at least.
The more Traumatika shifts in perspectives and timelines, the harder it becomes to find any foothold in the story. It’s easy to sympathize with a terrified child dealing with a monstrous kidnapper, but the film’s jumps in periods and protagonists mean never learning a single thing about Mikey until it’s his turn to repeat the cycle. By then, Traumatika has shifted into an unrecognizable film that’s more of a crime thriller-turned-slasher filled with strangers we’ve never met. Tsigardis packs in four different time periods into a scant 80-minute runtime, but each is so underdeveloped that it stretches itself too thin.
Despite some potent chills, Traumatika never looks past the surface of its concept. It’s a film that gets nasty with its scares to drive home the viscerality of victimization, but isn’t interested in root causes or even answers. Instead, it winds up feeling more like a horror movie designed to shock and test boundaries.
Trauma is inescapable, Traumatika drives home repeatedly, but its confrontations with that theme often soften its punches with every clunky shift in timeline and perspective. Worse, its central characters are defined solely by their traumas, with no depth or characterization. A few key performances bring the terror, as well as a very putrid horror scares, but the disjointed and incohesive Traumatika is never as controversial, purposeful, or as shocking as it posits.
Traumatika is in theaters as of September 12, 2025.
