Ick

Brandon Routh carries this sci-fi horror hybrid with a performance that grounds the absurd—a high-school science teacher caught between rekindling a lost love and discovering a possible daughter, all while an alien presence stalks his town. It's the kind of genre mashup that recalls A Quiet Place's intimate stakes colliding with extraterrestrial dread, but filtered through genuine human vulnerability rather than spectacle.

The film moves with propulsive energy, toggling between small-town romance and creeping cosmic horror without letting either thread collapse into cliché. Directors know how to build atmosphere—there's that Midnight Sky quality of isolation and wonder, paired with the character-driven unease of prestige horror like A24's output. Ninety-three minutes means zero flab; every scene earns its place.

This is for anyone who wants their sci-fi tinged with real emotional stakes and their horror laced with yearning. You'll leave thinking about what it means to reclaim lost time, to recognize yourself in someone else, and what we're willing to sacrifice when the world feels like it's ending. The final act alone justifies the investment.