In just a few weeks, Georgina Campbell, best known to many for her breakout turn in Barbarian, has found herself leading two horror films in theaters at the same time — each operating on completely different tonal frequencies. One is a brooding, investigative slasher rooted in psychological dread. The other is a zany, creature-feature throwback drenched in sci-fi absurdity.
Neither film reaches towering artistic highs, but not every horror release needs to. Some are built for pure entertainment, for cozy rewatches, for the communal thrill of genre spectacle rather than deep dissection. While both projects stumble in areas where sharper writing or bolder swings could have elevated them further, one thing remains consistent across both: Campbell anchors each film with presence, control, and commitment. She may not yet be horror’s most loudly celebrated name, but she is steadily becoming one of its most dependable leads.
Psycho Killer (2026)
Director: Gavin Polone
Writer: Andrew Kevin Walker
Cast: Georgina Campbell, James Preston Rogers, Malcolm McDowell, Logan Miller, Dutchess Cayetano, Stephen Adekolu
Kicking off Campbell’s dual billing is a fairly familiar entry into investigative psychological horror. Psycho Killer follows Jane Thorne (Campbell), a highway patrol officer whose life is shattered when her husband is murdered by a roaming serial killer cutting a violent path across the country. What begins as shock quickly turns into pursuit, placing Jane at the center of a grim, emotionally driven hunt.
The film gestures toward deeper thematic territory — particularly in the killer’s motivations, which appear rooted in occult or Satanic ideology — but never fully commits to exploring them with the psychological depth one might expect from a script penned by Andrew Kevin Walker, best known for crafting morally murky thrillers. There are hints of something more unsettling beneath the surface, yet the screenplay ultimately plays it safe, keeping the mystery more procedural than profound.
Campbell, however, gives the material weight. She embodies Jane with a grounded resolve that keeps the film from drifting into caricature. Even when the script leans into cliché, she remains emotionally believable — grief, fury, and determination simmering beneath a controlled exterior.
James Preston Rogers brings an imposing physicality to the titular killer. His movements and presence are effective, even unnerving at times. Yet the character loses some menace when his stylized voice enters the mix, veering closer to genre stereotype than genuine psychological terror. The result is a villain who is visually compelling but dramatically undercooked.
Director Gavin Polone doesn’t necessarily reinvent the slasher formula, but he does craft moments of striking visual tension. The cinematography captures lonely highways and dim interiors with an eerie stillness that works in the film’s favor. Where the film falters most is in its temporal ambiguity — the year and setting feel oddly undefined — along with a few narrative gaps that require a generous suspension of disbelief.
In time, Psycho Killer could develop a modest cult following among horror fans who appreciate mid-tier thrillers with strong leads. But it also risks being swallowed by the sheer volume of contemporary streaming horror. It’s not without merit — there are far less entertaining genre films out there — but there are also sharper ones. Still, Campbell’s performance alone keeps it from fading into total anonymity.
Cold Storage (2026)
Director: Jonny Campbell
Writer: David Koepp
Cast: Georgina Campbell, Joe Keery, Liam Neeson, Sosie Bacon, Vanessa Redgrave, Lesley Manville, Aaron Heffernan, Gavin Spokes
If Psycho Killer leans into solemn dread, Cold Storage gleefully sprints in the opposite direction.
Adapted from David Koepp’s own novel, the film centers on a parasitic, rapidly mutating fungus sealed beneath a self-storage facility where Naomi Williams (Campbell) and Travis “Teacake” Meacham (Joe Keery) work the night shift. When the containment inevitably fails, chaos erupts — bringing in retired bioterrorism operative Robert Quinn (Liam Neeson) to help manage the spiraling disaster.
Unlike the grounded severity of Psycho Killer, this film embraces its absurdity. The gore is surprisingly aggressive — more persistent and grotesque than its slasher counterpart — yet delivered with hyperbolic humor that keeps it from becoming oppressive. Exploding bodies, mutated organisms, and frantic escapes unfold with a wink, even when the stakes are theoretically catastrophic.
Campbell once again serves as the stabilizing force. Where Jane Thorne was stoic and grief-driven, Naomi feels more reactive and quick-witted, navigating chaos with a blend of intelligence and disbelief. Her chemistry with Joe Keery is natural and lightly comedic, even when the dialogue dips into cheesier territory. Together, they ground the film’s zanier swings.
The film carries an unmistakable late-80s or early-90s creature-feature energy — the kind of movie that would have thrived in practical-effects heyday. There’s also a thread of government conspiracy commentary woven through the narrative. Rather than dissecting systemic corruption with seriousness, however, the film uses it as backdrop — flavor rather than thesis.
Koepp’s adaptation doesn’t break new narrative ground, but it understands tone. It knows exactly what kind of ride it wants to be: messy, loud, self-aware fun. That clarity ultimately works in its favor. While predictable in spots, it commits to entertainment over prestige, and there’s something refreshing about that.
Between the two films, Cold Storage feels more confident in its identity — less concerned with appearing profound and more interested in delivering a good time.
We often rely on actors with name recognition to elevate genre material that might otherwise go overlooked. Projects like these may not be awards contenders, but performers like Georgina Campbell make them worth seeking out. She brings credibility, consistency, and emotional grounding to stories that could easily drift into mediocrity.
Psycho Killer leaves me wanting more — more psychological excavation, more daring with its kills, more clarity in its setting and structure. It hints at deeper ideas but never fully plunges into them. Cold Storage, meanwhile, embraces its ridiculousness, opting for energetic chaos over somber seriousness — and that commitment gives it an edge.
Neither film is groundbreaking. Neither reinvents horror. But both are entertaining in their own ways. And both further cement Georgina Campbell as a steadily rising force within modern genre cinema.