The Film

We’re making The Imaginary Friend because horror is where the truth slips out. It’s the genre that distorts, unsettles, and refuses to let us look away from what we’d rather keep buried. Horror, at its best, is transgressive. It breaks the rules of what we’re allowed to feel. It holds a mirror up to our culture and says - this is what scares us, this is what we suppress, and this is what it looks like when it all spills out.

Our film lives in the same space as Hereditary, The Babadook, Get Out and Bring Her Back… character-led psychological horror with supernatural undertones, where the genre functions as both emotional architecture and cultural critique. But The Imaginary Friend pushes into new terrain… a queer single father under quiet but mounting suspicion… a child whose inner world may be disturbed, possessed, or simply reflecting what the adults around him won’t say out loud.

At the heart of the film is Harry’s question. What did you do to her? 

And when it lands, it doesn't just hit the character. It hits the audience. Because the horror isn’t just what’s happening on screen. It’s what we’ve assumed. Of course, it crossed your mind that the queer dad might be the killer. Of course it did. The film forces us to confront that reflex… and asks what that says about all of us.

We’re building horror that’s cinematic, unnerving, deeply emotional… but also thematically rigorous. Horror with ideas. Horror that lingers. Horror that reveals. Because in this genre, you get to show the monster. And sometimes, the most disturbing thing is realizing where you expected it to come from.