I caught Babybacks at the Houston Horror Film Festival, and from its opening moments, it felt like stepping into a different era of horror. Everything about the introduction screams 1990s, right down to the retro title treatment and credit font. It immediately establishes a grimy, throwback atmosphere that fits the film's blend of road thriller, survival horror, and backwoods nightmare.
Written and directed by Geno Marx and co-written by Kent Rodricks, Babybacks follows two young lovers fleeing cartel hitmen across the Sonoran Desert. When they are rescued by an older couple who appear welcoming and compassionate, the pair believe they've finally found safety. Naturally, in a horror movie, safety is the last thing they've found. The film centers on the slow realization that their saviors may be even more dangerous than the people chasing them in the first place.
The setup immediately evokes comparisons to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and the influence is impossible to miss. Sometimes that familiarity works in the film's favor, tapping into the same sense of dread that comes from vulnerable outsiders stumbling into the wrong place at the worst possible time. Other moments feel a little too eager to wear those inspirations on their sleeve. Still, Babybacks manages to find enough of its own identity through its immigrant-centered narrative and its constant emphasis on false refuge.
What keeps the film engaging is its ability to weave together multiple threats and storylines without losing momentum. There are cartel assassins, desperate fugitives, manipulative predators, and a growing sense that nobody is ever truly safe. Just when it feels like the story is settling into a predictable groove, another twist arrives. Then another. Not every reveal lands with equal impact, but the film understands how to keep viewers guessing.
The performances help elevate the material across the board. The lead actors carry the emotional weight of the story well, but what stood out most was how committed even the smaller supporting performances felt. Nobody seems checked out or simply filling space. The cast helps sell the increasingly bizarre and disturbing situations, grounding the horror even when the narrative becomes more extreme. Viridiana Márquez, Ryan Rathbun, Ray Acevedo, Melissa Chambers, Alfred Gonzales, and Peter Lucas all contribute to a cast that keeps the tension believable.
One thing Babybacks does exceptionally well is create discomfort. The entire film carries an oppressive feeling that something terrible is always lurking just beyond the next scene. Even during quieter moments, the atmosphere remains uneasy. That growing tension is reinforced by practical effects work that is often impressive enough to make you question exactly what you're looking at. Horror fans who appreciate practical craftsmanship should find plenty to admire here.
That said, the film occasionally crosses a line where shock value feels more important than storytelling. As a parent, one particular sequence involving a baby did not work for me. I understand horror's ability to provoke and challenge audiences, but this moment felt like it existed primarily to generate revulsion rather than deepen the narrative themes. Mileage will vary depending on individual tolerance levels, but it was one of the few points where the film's desire to disturb felt more gratuitous than meaningful.
What ultimately makes Babybacks memorable is its commitment to making the audience feel trapped alongside its characters. Marx's story about false promises and predatory hospitality resonates beyond the surface-level scares, particularly as it explores themes of exploitation, displacement, and the dangers lurking behind perceived sanctuary. Even when the film stumbles, it never stops being interesting.
Babybacks is not an easy watch, nor is it always a pleasant one, but it is consistently engaging. Between the strong performances, effective practical effects, lingering atmosphere of dread, and a steady stream of twists, it succeeds as an unsettling survival horror experience. Fans of rural horror and tense, nerve-shredding thrillers will likely find plenty to appreciate, even if some of the film's shock tactics prove divisive.
Jessie Hobson