The Slither (2025) marks the chilling return of sci-fi body horror to the mainstream, starring Elizabeth Banks in a career-redefining role. While unofficially considered a spiritual successor to James Gunn’s Slither (2006), this new iteration is darker, more cerebral, and disturbingly relevant. Directed by indie horror darling Jordan Kramer, The Slither uses the grotesque to explore control, conformity, and the invasion of identity in the digital age.
Banks plays Dr. Lila Harrow, a disgraced bioethicist who relocates to a remote town in Oregon after a controversial whistleblowing incident. But her quiet retreat is shattered when townspeople begin exhibiting bizarre behavior—erratic speech, sudden violence, and translucent lesions snaking under their skin. It’s not long before Harrow uncovers a parasitic organism—alien in origin, possibly ancient—that “slithers” through the nervous system, feeding off memories and reshaping hosts to serve a collective hive.
What sets The Slither apart is its restraint. This isn’t a gore-fest, but rather a slow, uncomfortable unraveling of self and sanity. The body horror is psychological as much as physical. Elizabeth Banks, often known for her comedic and satirical roles, delivers a gripping dramatic performance. Her descent from skeptical scientist to tormented survivor feels authentic and emotionally charged.
Director Jordan Kramer’s use of silence and shadow evokes early Cronenberg with a modern, clinical edge. The creature effects blend practical makeup with bio-organic CGI that’s both beautiful and disgusting. One standout scene—where Harrow confronts a slithering version of her dead sister inside a decaying greenhouse—is already being hailed as an instant horror classic.
Thematically, The Slither explores how information (or infection) spreads—through screens, spores, or whispers—and how identity becomes fragmented under systemic pressures. It’s a metaphor for social media conformity, but never preachy. The horror here is subtle, insidious, and deeply internal.
Despite its indie roots, the film has received strong buzz from early screenings at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival, with many comparing it to Annihilation (2018) and Possessor (2020) in tone. Some audiences may find it too slow or ambiguous, but for those seeking thought-provoking horror, The Slither delivers in spades.
The ambiguous ending—where Harrow appears cured, only to whisper a phrase spoken earlier by the infected—suggests the parasite is still inside her... or perhaps she is it now.
In a potential sequel titled The Slither 2 – The Root Code, we could follow a secret government initiative attempting to use the parasite as a weaponized form of empathy or hive intelligence. Harrow, now part-human, part-hive, could either lead the resistance—or lead the infection. With the line between “self” and “system” completely blurred, the sequel could deepen the philosophical stakes while expanding the scale from rural containment to global crisis.
