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Mature-Rated Mutant Mayhem: A TIFF Review of ‘F*ck My Son!’
September 23, 2025Ben MK
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As the old saying goes, there's no accounting for bad taste. But when it comes to the horror genre, admittedly, some filmmakers use the subjectivity of the art form as an excuse for pushing that idiom to the brink and beyond. Whether it's Cannibal Holocaust, The Toxic Avenger or The Human Centipede, there have been numerous notable examples over the years of movies that register as completely unwatchable to general audiences, but which are revered as cult classics by a small, niche demographic. And with F*ck My Son!, writer-director Todd Rohal is adding another offensive entry to that infamous and twisted list, in this adaptation of Johnny Ryan's 2023 graphic novel. Sandy (Tipper Newton) and her daughter Bernice (Kynzie Colmery) never imagined that their shopping trip would turn out any other way than ordinary. But when they stop to help an old lady who's taken a tumble in the store parking lot, it marks the beginning of an ordeal that will push the boundaries of depravity. Kidnapped by a gun-toting senior citizen named Vermina (Robert Longstreet) and thrown in the back of her van, this mother-daughter duo will find themselves held captive at Vermina's isolated farmhouse, where the deranged granny lives with her wheelchair-bound mutant son, Fabian (Steve Little). What happens next, however, will disturb even the most seasoned horror fan, as Vermina and her cop husband, Leland (George Sample III), force Sandy to fornicate with Fabian. With his body covered in warts and his genitals tucked away deep inside his soiled diaper, Fabian isn't someone who's easy to look at, let alone come in physical contact with. As Sandy soon discovers, though, having sex with him won't be the most difficult thing she'll have to endure today. And when it comes time for her to escape this house of horrors, she'll have to unleash a bloodbath of her own. Ridiculously light on plot but heavy on full-frontal nudity, potty-mouthed vulgarity, and just about everything else audiences would find offensive, the result isn't for the faint of heart. Still, despite trying to be the modern-day equivalent of a late-night cable '80s schlock-fest, F*ck My Son! never manages to be anything more than 90 minutes of childish humor and gratuitous grotesquerie. Make no mistake, if you're looking for a film that will shock your parents, grandparents and every other living relative you have, you've come to the right place. For everyone else, however, this is one adaptation that should have stayed on the page. |
F*ck My Son! screens under the Midnight Madness programme at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival. Its runtime is 1 hr. 24 min.
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