(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Mikey's night terrors become reality when his mother begins showing signs of demonic possession. What he's about to experience will haunt him for the rest of his life and claim countless lives across generations.”
I couldn’t say when exactly but someone along the way into the evolution of screen Horror storytellers rather suddenly doubled down on the whole out-of-chronology format.
Think what you may, Horror – as a style – hadn’t seriously invested in such narrative trickery before. Of course, there were the usual culprits explored via flashbacks and the like; but the best I’ve been able to track it back to was 2022’s unanticipated box office success with Zach Cregger’s Barbarian that set this new trend in motion. Spinning such wild and bloody fantasies within jumping timeframes seemed to a device Cregger employed specifically – he certainly tripled-down on it in 2025’s popular Weapons – and now it would seem that others have hopped aboard that out-of-control train.
2024’s Traumatika arguably tried to do something similar. Written (in part) and directed by Pierre Tsigaridis, the picture kinda/sorta examines what happens when a possessive dark spirit gets released – ala a genie in a lamp – from an iron receptacle unearthed in Africa circa 1910 and brought to America decades later (though with no explanation how). John Reed (played by Sean O’Bryan) has somehow come into possession of the artifact; and – despite insistent warnings from Steve (Sean Whalen) to keep it safe from children – John just can’t quite help himself. He’s an incestuous pedophile, you see, and he’s smitten with his eldest daughter, Abigail (Rebekah Kennedy). So it’s only natural (from all I can tell here) that the villain pries open the vase and inadvertently sicks the resident demon after the young woman.
Having an anti-hero turn out to be a recipient of a haunted bauble isn’t enough to interest audiences any longer, so Tsigaridis kinda/sorta plays fast and loose with developing a mythology in-progress while the events unfold. About the time when viewers accept that Abby is now the evildoer they’re treated to the sight of the actual demon: it would seem that the ugly critter now has his sights on a male child, and Abby is somehow all-too-happy to abduct a few. As I said, the why and how all this works – what with the woman sometimes being possessed and others times (apparently) being a victim of said demon – is never important enough to get in the way of delivered endless jump scares. Once the director exhausts that trick, however, it’s time for another leap forward in time, this one involving Abby’s now adult sister Alice (Emily Goss) who is (or isn’t) trying to capitalize on her dead sibling’s story with a celebrity book tour. By the point that opportunistic video journalist Karen Novak (Susan Gayle Watts) shows up to hijack Alice’s notoriety for her own purposes, I’d imagine most folks will have tired of the gimmickry and just hope the demon shows up once more to kill everyone else.
Now, it isn’t that Traumatika is a bad film: it is a bad story, one that lacks the bones because Tsigaridis was only interested in the blood and guts. Its screen talent employs a handful of familiar faces – a few even known to the genre – and that generally bodes well for projects big and small. Kennedy, for instance, I’ve enjoyed in a good handful of projects – a few relatively obscure – but her good work here never quite amounts to more than behaviors with sketchy motivations. Was she of her own mind and body? Did this demon truly manipulate her into all of this in spite of what she’d already endured at the hands of a lustful father? It was never perfectly clear, and it should’ve been.
As I said, the jumping around in time grows tiresome – I think it spans three eras within the first 30 minutes – and almost comical. Because the narrative propels the audience elsewhere a bit too conveniently, there’s rarely any time spent to understand and appreciate the characters much less the slim pickings of a mythology necessary for all of this spiritual possessing to take place. Another rough draft (or two) might’ve helped bring enough of the disparate elements here into tighter focus; but – as I’ve also tried to be clear – the pieces seem only relevant enough to serve as props setting up jump scares. That alone will never be enough for his hardened purveyor of Horror, and I’ll have to leave it all at that.
Traumatika (2024) was produced by Saban Films and the Rancon Company. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are quite good throughout: however, be warned that there’s a fair amount of herky-jerky cinematography – at times not unlike ‘found footage’ flicks – in Traumatika’s various sequences. It could’ve been minimized a bit more (for my tastes), but it is what it is. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, the only bit of extras on here were some theatrical trailers of (mostly) like-minded fare.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
2024’s Traumatika’s biggest problem is that – aside from some effective scares – it really doesn’t have any compelling central story to tell. Writer/director Tsigaridis’ intent seems to both meander and time-jump through a loose stream of consciousness, deciding along the way where to go next instead of cleanly and clearly plotting out one horrific adventure from start to finish. As such, viewers have little thread with which to grasp on to and know what it’s all about: instead, they’re pushed from one scary scene to another. While there is some connective tissue, there isn’t any foundation upon which all of it stems. Stylistic flourishes aside, Traumatika might require counseling just to get through it.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Traumatika (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Mikey's night terrors become reality when his mother begins showing signs of demonic possession. What he's about to experience will haunt him for the rest of his life and claim countless lives across generations.”
I couldn’t say when exactly but someone along the way into the evolution of screen Horror storytellers rather suddenly doubled down on the whole out-of-chronology format.
Think what you may, Horror – as a style – hadn’t seriously invested in such narrative trickery before. Of course, there were the usual culprits explored via flashbacks and the like; but the best I’ve been able to track it back to was 2022’s unanticipated box office success with Zach Cregger’s Barbarian that set this new trend in motion. Spinning such wild and bloody fantasies within jumping timeframes seemed to a device Cregger employed specifically – he certainly tripled-down on it in 2025’s popular Weapons – and now it would seem that others have hopped aboard that out-of-control train.
2024’s Traumatika arguably tried to do something similar. Written (in part) and directed by Pierre Tsigaridis, the picture kinda/sorta examines what happens when a possessive dark spirit gets released – ala a genie in a lamp – from an iron receptacle unearthed in Africa circa 1910 and brought to America decades later (though with no explanation how). John Reed (played by Sean O’Bryan) has somehow come into possession of the artifact; and – despite insistent warnings from Steve (Sean Whalen) to keep it safe from children – John just can’t quite help himself. He’s an incestuous pedophile, you see, and he’s smitten with his eldest daughter, Abigail (Rebekah Kennedy). So it’s only natural (from all I can tell here) that the villain pries open the vase and inadvertently sicks the resident demon after the young woman.
Having an anti-hero turn out to be a recipient of a haunted bauble isn’t enough to interest audiences any longer, so Tsigaridis kinda/sorta plays fast and loose with developing a mythology in-progress while the events unfold. About the time when viewers accept that Abby is now the evildoer they’re treated to the sight of the actual demon: it would seem that the ugly critter now has his sights on a male child, and Abby is somehow all-too-happy to abduct a few. As I said, the why and how all this works – what with the woman sometimes being possessed and others times (apparently) being a victim of said demon – is never important enough to get in the way of delivered endless jump scares. Once the director exhausts that trick, however, it’s time for another leap forward in time, this one involving Abby’s now adult sister Alice (Emily Goss) who is (or isn’t) trying to capitalize on her dead sibling’s story with a celebrity book tour. By the point that opportunistic video journalist Karen Novak (Susan Gayle Watts) shows up to hijack Alice’s notoriety for her own purposes, I’d imagine most folks will have tired of the gimmickry and just hope the demon shows up once more to kill everyone else.
Now, it isn’t that Traumatika is a bad film: it is a bad story, one that lacks the bones because Tsigaridis was only interested in the blood and guts. Its screen talent employs a handful of familiar faces – a few even known to the genre – and that generally bodes well for projects big and small. Kennedy, for instance, I’ve enjoyed in a good handful of projects – a few relatively obscure – but her good work here never quite amounts to more than behaviors with sketchy motivations. Was she of her own mind and body? Did this demon truly manipulate her into all of this in spite of what she’d already endured at the hands of a lustful father? It was never perfectly clear, and it should’ve been.
As I said, the jumping around in time grows tiresome – I think it spans three eras within the first 30 minutes – and almost comical. Because the narrative propels the audience elsewhere a bit too conveniently, there’s rarely any time spent to understand and appreciate the characters much less the slim pickings of a mythology necessary for all of this spiritual possessing to take place. Another rough draft (or two) might’ve helped bring enough of the disparate elements here into tighter focus; but – as I’ve also tried to be clear – the pieces seem only relevant enough to serve as props setting up jump scares. That alone will never be enough for his hardened purveyor of Horror, and I’ll have to leave it all at that.
Traumatika (2024) was produced by Saban Films and the Rancon Company. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are quite good throughout: however, be warned that there’s a fair amount of herky-jerky cinematography – at times not unlike ‘found footage’ flicks – in Traumatika’s various sequences. It could’ve been minimized a bit more (for my tastes), but it is what it is. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, the only bit of extras on here were some theatrical trailers of (mostly) like-minded fare.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
2024’s Traumatika’s biggest problem is that – aside from some effective scares – it really doesn’t have any compelling central story to tell. Writer/director Tsigaridis’ intent seems to both meander and time-jump through a loose stream of consciousness, deciding along the way where to go next instead of cleanly and clearly plotting out one horrific adventure from start to finish. As such, viewers have little thread with which to grasp on to and know what it’s all about: instead, they’re pushed from one scary scene to another. While there is some connective tissue, there isn’t any foundation upon which all of it stems. Stylistic flourishes aside, Traumatika might require counseling just to get through it.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Traumatika (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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