Victorian Psycho

Zachary Wigon’s Victorian Psycho wears its influences so openly that the title alone feels like a punchline. Adapted from Virginia Feito’s novel, with Feito also writing the screenplay, the film follows eccentric governess Winifred Notty (Maika Monroe), who arrives at Ensor House to work for the Pound family: Mr Pounds (Jason Isaacs), Mrs Pounds (Ruth Wilson), and their children Andrew (Jacobi Jupe) and Drusilla (Evie Templeton), and live-in nurse Miss Lamb (Thomasin Mckenzie). From the moment Monroe enters the house, Wigon leans heavily into unease. Winifred moves through corridors with the stiff politeness of somebody permanently suppressing violent impulses, observing the family with a stare that flickers between fascination and contempt.

The film runs barely 90 minutes, yet it adopts a chapter-by-chapter structure, each section introduced through title cards displaying the chapter names lifted from the novel. The approach feels faithful to Feito’s source material, though it never entirely works on screen. Many chapters are so brief that the film begins to feel oddly fragmented, as though whole sections of connective tissue are missing. What might have worked as the rhythm of a miniseries instead leaves scenes arriving and disappearing before they fully settle.

Feito’s dialogue also carries over almost too faithfully from page to screen. Large stretches of Winifred’s inner monologue are lifted directly from the novel, but unlike American Psycho, where Patrick Bateman’s internal voice sharpened the satire through its dead-eyed emptiness, Winifred’s thoughts often clash too heavily with her outward behaviour. The contrast becomes so exaggerated that the satire occasionally feels strained rather than incisive, with certain lines landing awkwardly once spoken aloud.

Still, Victorian Psycho largely succeeds where it matters most. Comedy horror is notoriously difficult to balance, especially with a slasher twist in the mix, and while the deadpan humour does not always land, the horror elements remain consistently effective. Monroe gives the film its centre of gravity, particularly during the nocturnal sequences where Winifred stalks through dark hallways like an apparition. The way Monroe lets her body twitch and convulse, as though something is trying to force its way out of her, becomes genuinely disturbing. Even when the satire falters, Victorian Psycho is compulsively entertaining.