Magical Girl Transformation: Alice Maio Mackay’s ‘The Serpent’s Skin’
For all that feels familiar about “The Serpent’s Skin” — a horror film featuring demonic possession, witchcraft and characters connecting through dreams — there is something distinctly singular about its management of tone and form.
The film marks the sixth feature in four years from 21-year-old Australian filmmaker Alice Maio Mackay. Its largely crowd-funded budget gives the special effects and locations a handcrafted, immediate feel. While these are all compelling reasons to see “The Serpent’s Skin,” the film’s greatest virtue lies in its conviction, remaining consistently aesthetically confident and formally daring throughout.
A self-described “transgender film,” a moniker that could easily be ascribed to all of Mackay’s other projects (such as her 2023 film “T Blockers,” a kind of trans riff on the zombie movie), “The Serpent’s Skin” follows Anna, a young transgender woman who flees her unstable childhood home to live with her older sister while struggling with self-harm and experiencing strange visions.
After discovering she has magical abilities when she thwarts a robbery of the record store where she works, Anna finds romance with Gen, a tattoo artist and fellow witch who helps her hone her abilities to fight petty crime (and spice things up in the bedroom). Standing between them is Danny, Anna’s playboy next-door neighbor and unwitting recipient of a cursed tattoo designed by Gen. When Danny goes on a soul-sucking rampage, it falls to Anna and Gen to rescue him from his curse.
Mackay’s camera placements and cutting rhythms are dreamy, with a wayward, hazy pace that results in something akin to a David Lynch film by way of BBS Productions. The film’s low-budget charm sometimes tips towards comedy, but Mackay’s wry hand as a screenwriter keeps it from being overwhelmed by unearned laughs. For instance, Anna’s sister refers to her apartment complex as the “Bates Motel,” and later Gen and Anna use their powers to zap a cigarette out of a pregnant woman’s hand.
Although Mackay is clearly practiced at executing horror-centric sequences, she makes the romance between Anna and Gen the heart of the film, treating their relationship with genuine care and grace. She never uses queerness as a tool or a symbol, instead giving Anna, Gen and their friends real agency; they are flawed, lovingly rendered human beings.
Much of the crew is made up of transgender women. Editor Vera Drew and colorist Jessica Dunn Rovinelli are filmmakers behind projects like “The People’s Joker” and “So Pretty,” respectively, while producer Louise Weard directed the five-part film series “Castration Movie Anthology.”
Alexandra McKiver portrays Anna, bringing a soulful, resonant quality to the character. She is winsome but never weak, strong and searching. As Gen, Avalon Fast, whose searing eyes and playful smile make it seem as if she is always on the brink of darting out of frame, proves an ideal scene partner. Together, their coupledom is scintillating and easy to root for. Jordan Dulieu plays Danny with true heartthrob affect, making what might otherwise be a stock character surprisingly affable. The erotically charged life-or-death tension between the three animates much of the film’s third act.
The film ends with Anna, Gen, and Danny coming head-to-head before, in one of its quieter moments, ultimately coming together. One of its final images shows the three sitting side by side on the rooftop, shell-shocked and sharing cigarettes. It is one of many genuinely stirring moments in this strange gem of a film.
The Serpent’s Skin had its Massachusetts premiere at the Boston Underground Film Festival on March 19th, 2026. It is now in theaters from Dark Star Pictures.
Regions: Boston