Marshmallow

Fog, Fear, and Failed Grown-Ups: Who’s Really Watching the Children?

At first glance, “Marshmallow” might appear to be a familiar summer slasher set at a children’s camp, where a masked killer predictably stalks the woods.

One could be forgiven for expecting just another nostalgic throwback to classics like “Friday the 13th” or “The Burning.” But nothing quite prepares you for what “Marshmallow” actually delivers.

From the opening sequence, there’s a distinct sense of unease—something is off, and not just in the obvious horror sense.

We’re introduced to Morgan (played with quiet vulnerability by young actor Kue Lawrence), a withdrawn boy burdened by trauma.

His arrival at Camp Alarm after the death of his grandfather only deepens his isolation. He’s bullied mercilessly—particularly by one camper with a vicious streak—and lives in constant fear, even before the slasher element surfaces.

The adults, nominally responsible for the children’s safety, are far more preoccupied with their own pleasures than with supervision.

During the obligatory campfire scene—complete with a spooky tale—it seems we’re following a well-worn script. But don’t be misled.

The counselors spin an in-universe legend about The Doctor, a shadowy figure who haunts the surrounding woods and preys on children. The twist? That boogeyman doesn’t wait long to make his presence known.

“Marshmallow” is far from a simple homage to ‘80s horror. Its themes are subtler, more insidious, and ultimately more disturbing.

Without giving too much away, this debut feature by Daniel delPurgatorio (yes, that’s really his surname—ironically apt) joins this year’s growing trend of horror films that interrogate moral decay and social complicity beneath familiar genre frameworks.

The script is sharp, the performances well-judged, and the direction confident. Visually, the film’s grainy, fog-drenched aesthetic evokes a lost VHS tape from 1984—authentic without being gimmicky.

Yes, the killer eventually emerges—brutal, nightmarish, bloodthirsty—but there’s more here than just a body count.

While “Marshmallow” wears the mask of a traditional slasher, it quietly retools the genre, injecting contemporary ethical dilemmas and psychological nuance.

It forces us to question the grown-ups’ role in these spaces—and whether the real horror is always the one with the knife.

It’s not without flaws—some character motivations (especially among the counselors) could have been more deeply explored, and a few narrative turns feel underdeveloped.

But perhaps those unanswered questions are intentional, contributing to the film’s lingering sense of dread.

“Marshmallow” took me back to the kinds of films that made me fall in love with horror in the first place.

It reminds us that there are still filmmakers who understand what the genre can do—striking a near-perfect balance between summer-camp terror, modern themes, and grim entertainment.

And for once, it’s not the kids you’ll hate.