There is Something in the TV

It shares DNA with psychological hauntings and object oriented horror like 'The Ring' or 'Poltergeist', where a domestic device becomes a portal to terror. The focus on grief and personal demons also aligns it with films such as 'The Babadook'. Think less about slashers or monsters, and more about the horror of being forced to watch your deepest regrets play out on a screen you cannot turn off.

As a 2025 release, specific Australian streaming or theatrical details are not yet confirmed. Typically, films of this nature premiere at genre festivals like Monster Fest before securing distribution on major platforms like Stan, which has a strong horror library, or through video on demand services. Keep an eye on local film festival announcements and entertainment guides for updates.

While not devoid of startling moments, the film appears to cultivate a more sustained atmosphere of unease. The true terror is baked into the premise itself the dread of what the television will show next. It favours psychological tension and the horror of implication over cheap, loud shocks, suggesting a more sophisticated and lingering kind of fear that gets under your skin.

Edward Seppings carries the film's emotional weight as Will, portraying grief and escalating terror with a raw, believable vulnerability. Nicholas Phimister's role, while details are sparse, is reported to contribute significantly to the film's tense dynamic. Their performances ground the supernatural premise, making the psychological unraveling feel authentic and deeply human, which is essential for the horror to truly land.

The horror is psychologically potent rather than reliant on gore. Its fear factor is rooted in dread and the violation of domestic space, a concept that resonates universally. For Australian viewers, the familiar setting of a mundane apartment makes the intrusion of the supernatural feel uncomfortably close to home. It's the kind of film that might make you glance warily at your own screen long after the credits roll.

At its core, the film explores grief and the inescapable nature of personal history. The strange television becomes a malevolent mirror, forcing the protagonist, Will, to confront horrors he believed were buried. It's less about spectral broadcast signals and more about the terrifying idea that our past traumas can find a way to manifest, demanding to be witnessed and reconciled with, often in the most unsettling ways imaginable.

The director's credit for this film is currently not publicly listed, which adds an intriguing layer of mystery to the project. This absence shifts the focus squarely onto the performances and the unsettling atmosphere crafted on screen. Sometimes, an unknown directorial hand can amplify a film's enigmatic quality, making the horrors within the television feel more like a discovered artefact than a constructed narrative.

While the film taps into a universal, almost primal fear of haunted technology, there is no indication it is based on a specific true story. Its power lies in its metaphorical truth, using the television as a conduit for unresolved grief and personal trauma. The horror emerges not from documented events but from the psychological landscape of its protagonist, making the terror feel intimately real for anyone who has grappled with loss or regret.