Fantastic Fest 2026

Some films are unsettling because their worlds are unfamiliar. Adult Supervision disturbed me because its behavior felt all too recognizable. This Swedish film, written and directed by Alex Schulman, exposes a side of people—especially teenagers—that we hope does not exist but know does. I found it difficult to watch at times, largely because the cruelty felt so plausible.

The story follows Bill (Gustaf Skarsgård), a father who volunteers to chaperone his teenage daughter’s class trip to a remote island, hoping to mend their strained relationship. He is joined by fellow fathers Bobo (Fares Fares) and Pontus (Linus Wahlgren), whose contrasting personalities and parenting styles complicate the arrangement. What begins as a chance to spend time with their children becomes a struggle over authority, belonging, and control. As tensions rise, the adults’ unresolved experiences begin to shape their responses to the teenagers in their care.

The cast is exceptional. Skarsgård gives Bill a vulnerability that makes his desire to connect with his daughter understandable, even as the situation becomes increasingly uncomfortable. Fares and Wahlgren bring distinct energies to Bobo and Pontus, creating an uneasy balance among men who are supposed to be working together. Their interactions make the adults’ insecurities as consequential as the behavior they are supposed to manage.

The younger ensemble is equally important to the film’s impact. The teenagers’ shifting loyalties and capacity for cruelty feel credible enough to sustain tension beyond individual confrontations. There is something particularly upsetting about watching humiliation become a form of entertainment or a means of establishing status. Schulman understands how threatening a group can be when belonging depends on participating—or at least on staying silent.

What makes Adult Supervision so effective is its refusal to treat adulthood as an automatic guarantee of maturity. These fathers arrive with responsibilities, but they also carry memories, wounded pride, and their own needs. Their presence does not neatly resolve the problems around them. Instead, the film examines how easily the desire to protect, to gain approval, or to assert authority can complicate an already volatile situation.

The story is taut, and the delivery is solid throughout. Schulman allows the pressure to build through relationships and behavior, giving the performances room to make each uncomfortable exchange count. Its dark humor offers moments of recognition, though the implications of that recognition are rarely reassuring. I kept watching with the uneasy awareness that the film’s ugliness required little exaggeration.

That realism stayed with me after seeing it at Fantastic Fest. The film taps into the fear that people can recognize cruelty, understand its consequences, and still find reasons to excuse or join in. The island setting concentrates those dynamics, making the characters’ inability to escape one another increasingly oppressive. It is an effective setting for a story about how quickly social order can devolve into a contest of wills.

Adult Supervision is compelling, superbly acted, and deeply uncomfortable. Its strongest moments show how fragile the line between responsible behavior and destructive impulse can be, regardless of age. I would not call it an easy watch, but its difficulty serves the story. Schulman and his cast make the experience convincing enough that simply dismissing it as fiction offers little comfort.