Body of Angels (Short 2016)

👉Full movie at end of the post

A grieving father, shattered by the death of his young daughter, begins witnessing unexplainable horrors in his home. Shadows dart just beyond his sight, whispers slither through empty rooms, and sleep offers no refuge—only nightmares of the child he lost. As his isolation deepens, the line between grief and the supernatural fractures, leaving him unsure whether he’s haunted or hallucinating.

The discovery of a grotesque angel statue hidden in the attic twists his sorrow into dread. Its chipped wings and hollow eyes seem to pulse with a life of their own, warping reality around it. Visions of his daughter claw at the edges of his vision, but her presence feels wrong—tainted. The more he resists the statue’s pull, the tighter its grip coils around his sanity, blurring his waking world with waking nightmares.

His desperate attempts to destroy the angel unleash something far worse. Walls bleed, the air thickens with the scent of decay, and the statue’s porcelain cracks reveal something unspeakable beneath. The film crescendos in a feverish climax where guilt, rage, and the supernatural collide—is the angel a conduit for his pain, or has it been feeding on him all along?

Body of Angels lingers like a cold breath on the neck, blending body horror and psychological torment. The father’s unraveling becomes a mirror for the audience’s own unease, as the film refuses easy answers. Its stark cinematography and sound design—each creak, each muffled sob—build a claustrophobic hell where love and loss curdle into something monstrous.

By the final frame, the angel’s true nature remains ambiguous, but its devastation is undeniable. This isn’t just a ghost story; it’s a dissection of how grief can hollow a person out, leaving them vulnerable to the darkness waiting to fill the void. Short but relentless, the film etches its horrors into memory with visceral imagery and emotional brutality.