“Baba Yaga: House of Shadows” (2026) brings the infamous Slavic witch back to the screen in a chilling, atmospheric horror tale that blends folklore, psychological tension, and supernatural terror. Set deep within an isolated forest in Eastern Europe, the film follows a group of documentary filmmakers eager to uncover the truth behind centuries-old legends about Baba Yaga and her walking house. What begins as a research trip filled with curiosity quickly turns into a desperate fight for survival as the line between myth and reality collapses around them.
The story centers on Lena Markova, a folklorist who has spent years studying ancient myths but carries a personal connection to the Baba Yaga legend. Haunted by the disappearance of her grandmother decades earlier, Lena joins the expedition hoping to find answers. Alongside her are a skeptical director seeking sensational footage, a sound technician hiding her own fears, and a forest guide who warns them repeatedly that some stories are meant to be left alone. Their conflicting motives create friction, but the group presses forward into the dense, almost suffocating wilderness.

Strange occurrences begin almost immediately—trees shift position when the crew isn’t looking, distant whispers echo through the forest, and carved symbols appear on their equipment. The film excels at building dread slowly, using the environment itself as an antagonist. By the time the group stumbles upon the crooked wooden house standing on enormous, root-like legs, the tension has reached a breaking point. The house becomes a terrifying character of its own, shifting positions, creaking with life, and reacting to the emotions of those who approach it.
Once inside, the filmmakers find themselves trapped in a maze of rooms that distort time and memory. Doors lead back to their own nightmares, hallways change direction, and shadows move independently of light. Lena begins hearing the voice of her grandmother calling her deeper into the house, blurring her sense of reality as the crew’s sanity unravels. The film blends supernatural imagery with psychological horror, making viewers question whether the house is alive or simply feeding on the group’s fears.

As Baba Yaga herself appears—ancient, silent, and disturbingly calm—the terror intensifies. Her presence is not loud or monstrous; instead, she manipulates the house around the intruders, forcing them to face the darkest parts of themselves. Each character’s downfall becomes both horrifying and symbolic, reflecting the personal demons they carried into the forest. Lena alone is offered a sinister bargain: the truth about her grandmother in exchange for a sacrifice she may not be willing to make.
The climax pushes Lena into a final confrontation within the heart of the house, where past and present collide in haunting imagery. The truth she uncovers is devastating, revealing that Baba Yaga is less a villain and more a keeper of forbidden knowledge—one who demands payment for every answer. The ending is bleak yet unforgettable, leaving Lena forever changed and the surviving crew uncertain whether they escaped or were simply allowed to leave.
“Baba Yaga: House of Shadows” (2026) succeeds as a visually striking and emotionally gripping horror film, offering a fresh take on a classic legend while delivering genuine scares. With its atmospheric world-building, psychological depth, and chilling folklore, it stands as one of the year’s most memorable supernatural thrillers.





