The Reign of Queen Ginnarra (2025) Review

It’s rare to see a fantasy film this ambitious emerge from the low-budget landscape. Yet The Reign of Queen Ginnarra, directed by Lawrie Brewster, defies expectation and takes a mighty, sword-wielding swipe. At a time when even mid-range studio pictures play it safe, this brave, often bonkers slice of medieval melodrama dares to summon dragons, cosmic horrors, and dynastic treachery, all wrapped in a swirling cloak of Lovecraftian darkness.

At nearly three hours long, it plunges headfirst into the dark waters of medieval fantasy, horror, and political tragedy. It’s full of jagged edges, wild tonal shifts, and occasional lapses in polish, and yet, for all its imperfections, it remains compulsively watchable.

The story follows Elderon (Andrew Gourlay), an outcast prince navigating a broken kingdom ruled by his tyrannical sister, Queen Ginnarra (Megan Tremethick). Banished from the royal court and pursued by enemies both mortal and monstrous, Elderon sets out to unseat the monarch who murdered their father and bound the realm in occult servitude. There are dragons. There are blood sacrifices. There’s a sense that absolutely anything might happen next, which is no small feat in a genre often plagued by predictability.

While it wears its influences proudly (Boorman’s Excalibur looms large), The Reign of Queen Ginnarra isn’t just stitching together old ideas. There’s an eerie, haunted quality to the world Brewster and writer Sarah Daly have created. Ritual magic feels genuinely dangerous, and the dark gods that lurk behind the queen’s power evoke a sense of unknowable dread. It flirts with cosmic horror without losing its grip on grounded character drama.

Tremethick is particularly strong as Ginnarra, a ruler whose power stems not only from sorcery but from a capacity for silence and menace. She doesn’t chew the scenery; she chills it. In her most disturbing scenes, she doesn’t shout or scream. She simply observes. Her bond with her son, Raemin (Dorian Todd), is one of the few places we glimpse anything resembling tenderness, and that only deepens the horror of her choices. It’s a superb performance, the sort that lingers long after the credits roll.

Gourlay, by contrast, brings a worn-down gravitas to Elderon. He’s not the square-jawed hero type, and the film is better for it. This is a reluctant warrior, a man dragging himself through guilt and doubt. There’s something pleasingly unvarnished about his portrayal – you believe this man has been living in the shadows, barely surviving.

Technically, the film is uneven. Some of the visual effects work well, especially in close-up, while others – particularly the AI-enhanced crowd scenes – jar against the otherwise earthy production design. The practical sets, costumes and fight choreography are impressive given the constraints, and the score by Daly adds grandeur without overwhelming the quieter moments.

Yes, it could have been shorter. A tighter runtime would have helped the pacing, and there are stretches that test your patience. But that indulgence is also part of its identity.

The Reign of Queen Ginnarra is a bold, bleak fairytale with teeth. It’s not for everyone, but for those drawn to its strange rhythm and shadowy corners, it offers something genuinely rare: an indie fantasy film with heart, conviction, and ambition to spare.

Movie Rating:

The Reign of Queen Ginnarra trailer