Yndige Mennesker (2025) | REVIEW

Albert Rudbeck Lindhardt in the Danish horror anthology film Yndige Mennesker (int. title: Adorable Humans) — Still image from the international trailer.

Directed by Anders Jon, Michael Kunov, Kasper Juhl, and Michael Panduro.

Yndige Mennesker (or, Adorable Humans) is a Danish horror anthology film from four Danish directors, none of whom are household names in their home country. Each story is loosely inspired by select stories originally written by world-renowned Danish writer and poet Hans Christian Andersen, who is primarily known for his many beloved fairy tales. Although Lars von Trier’s Riget series (int. title: The Kingdom) and Ole Bornedal’s Nattevagten (int. title: Nightwatch) are both beloved titles in Denmark, the country isn’t known for the horror genre, and it is very rare for Danish horror to land well over here. In recent years, the most successful Danish horror title is Christian Tafdrup’s Speak No Evil, which has already gotten an American remake. Indeed, perhaps a new generation of filmmakers is now ready to make the horror genre feel more at home. In any case, Yndige Mennesker shows that some Danish filmmakers are trying to tell stories in the genre.

Set entirely in contemporary Denmark, this low-budget horror anthology film is split into four individual segments from four different filmmakers, but the films share themes and actors, as it appears they all more or less take place in the same world. It’s clear that they’re all trying to tell a story built around desire and death, but the way each story goes about it is quite different. The quartet of filmmakers utilizes the opening — and page-turning — of a book as a frame device to further establish a connection between the four narratives and, perhaps especially, to strengthen a connection to the stories they’re all inspired by or, perhaps more fittingly, are horror reimaginings of.

The first segment is Anders Jon’s Dødningen (or, The Dead Man), which follows Jonas (played by Albert Rudbeck Lindhardt), a young caregiver (and aspiring doctor), who is sent to care for a still and unmoving elderly man in his quietly disturbing home. While Jonas watches over the old man and becomes gradually more and more fascinated with the alarming framed photos and carvings he finds in the home, he is also starting to become romantically involved with a mysterious woman named Sofie (played by Sus Wilkins).

Although Jon’s film did lose some of its narrative clarity as it wrapped itself up, I thought this opening film worked quite well. Well-shot and patiently paced, it is a competently made short film that builds atmospheric tension fairly well. It also builds to some really strong images, even though its horror image-making sometimes feels slightly generic. However, I thought this was a really effective horror short, and when I had seen the entire anthology film, this was the short, or chapter, that I felt ought to be turned into a feature film. I’ll add that it was nice to see Lindhardt in this film, who you may have seen in Thomas Vinterberg’s Families Like Ours or Anders Thomas Jensen’s Riders of Justice. He’s a talented young actor who is also rather good here. As a Dane, I also must comment on the fact that the film features a — for Danes — somewhat distracting cameo from Danish billionaire Lars Seier Christensen, who, as it turns out, is an executive producer on this low-budget film. I’ll admit that it, for a moment there, took me out of the film to see him as, if memory serves, a barkeep.

The second segment is Michael Kunov’s Historien om en moder (or, The Story of a Mother), which is about loss, grief, trauma, and a troubled relationship between mother and son, which, to a certain extent, reminded me a little bit of The Babadook. Although it certainly has its merits, I must admit that this was the chapter that I struggled the most with here. It felt uneven in pace, with certain aspects feeling rather rushed and others feeling unnecessarily drawn out. I also felt that there was a stiltedness or awkwardness to certain dialogue scenes that felt like such a departure from the first chapter. This may very well be intentional to aim for a Lanthimosian feel, but it didn’t fully work for me here.

Kasper Juhl’s Snedronningen (or, The Snow Queen) is the penultimate segment in the anthology film, and it tells the story of a depressed woman (played by Mie Gren) struggling with her traditional married life and the new reality of living in a farmhouse in the countryside. She can’t see herself in this new life, and she only feels passion and desire when faced with her past. It is a film deeply concerned with religious imagery, traditionality, sexuality, and identity. This one makes good use of tropey but undeniably effective horror imagery like transformative mirrors, turning crosses, and certain body horror aspects. Although I don’t think it quite matches the highs of the opening narrative, I thought this worked relatively well. However, the horror imagery is what makes it work somewhat, as there are certain narrative elements that feel clunky.

The final segment of the four is Michael Panduro’s Tante Tandpine (or, Auntie Toothache), which follows the musician, Benny (played by Peter Høgsbro), as he struggles with writer’s block right at the moment when he may have the opportunity to break through as the new lead singer of an established rock band. Looking for a way to overcome his struggles, he turns to his free-spirited and mysterious aunt, and soon a demonic entity starts following him.

Like with Dødningen, I thought Tante Tandpine worked really well and is a relatively strong closer for the film. Høgsbro is solid in the lead role, and the aforementioned entity is brought to life through quite effective make-up and costuming. However, where Dødningen struggled with narrative clarity in its closing moments, the biggest problem with Tante Tandpine is perhaps its attempts to balance tone. Although Panduro lands a very effective moment of horror comedy in this short film, the film also goes to some deeply disturbing places, and I don’t think the film fully earns the tone it lands on given what actually happens to the lead character.

Ultimately, I think Yndige Mennesker is an occasionally quite effective horror anthology film, but it also has noticeable blemishes along the way. I don’t actually think it is super scary, but it definitely peaks early with Anders Jon’s Dødningen when it comes to nailing atmospheric tension and horror imagery. Still, though, there are solid-enough horror character designs, jump-scares, and body horror spread around in the film, as well as one quite good moment of horror comedy. For an anthology film, it does feel a little bit long with its almost two-hour runtime. On the whole, I thought this was a mostly effective low-budget horror experiment, even though not every narrative is equally attention-grabbing or good at holding your interest.

6.5 out of 10

– Review written by Jeffrey Rex Bertelsen.

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