The Hippopotamus (2025) is a quietly unsettling film that blends psychological drama with dark satire, using its deceptively simple premise to explore power, repression, and moral decay beneath a polished surface. From the opening scenes, the film establishes an atmosphere of discomfort masked by elegance, drawing the viewer into a world where intellect, privilege, and cruelty coexist in disturbing harmony.

The story centers on Ted Wallace, a cynical and disgraced writer who is invited to stay at the luxurious country estate of an old friend. The estate belongs to a wealthy patron whose teenage daughter has begun exhibiting seemingly miraculous abilities, including healing the sick and predicting future events. Ted is tasked with observing her and uncovering the truth behind these claims, a role he approaches with skepticism, sarcasm, and barely concealed contempt for those around him.

As Ted settles into the estate, the film gradually reveals a web of manipulation and exploitation. The supposed miracles become less important than the motives of the adults who surround the girl, each projecting their own desires, fears, and ambitions onto her. The narrative carefully avoids clear answers, allowing doubt and unease to grow through subtle interactions and unsettling dialogue rather than overt plot twists.

What makes The Hippopotamus particularly effective is its focus on character rather than spectacle. Ted is not a traditional protagonist; he is abrasive, morally compromised, and often cruel, yet his sharp observations expose the hypocrisy of everyone involved. His internal conflict—between uncovering the truth and indulging in his own bitterness—adds psychological depth and tension to the story.

Visually, the film is restrained and precise. The stately manor, manicured gardens, and quiet interiors contrast sharply with the moral rot beneath them. Long takes and controlled pacing allow scenes to linger, forcing the audience to sit with uncomfortable moments rather than escape them. The soundtrack is minimal, often giving way to silence, which heightens the sense of emotional isolation.

Thematically, The Hippopotamus examines how belief can be weaponized, especially when innocence is involved. It questions whether miracles matter at all in a world driven by ego and self-interest, and whether truth has value when it threatens comfort and control. The title itself becomes symbolic, suggesting something massive and dangerous lurking beneath calm waters, unseen until it is too late.

In the end, The Hippopotamus is not a film that offers catharsis or clear moral resolution. Instead, it leaves viewers unsettled, reflecting on the cost of cynicism and the ease with which intelligence can become a tool for harm. Its strength lies in its restraint and intellectual sharpness, making it a thought-provoking experience that lingers long after the final scene fades.