Nostalgia Meets Something That Bites Back

Read Time:5 Minute, 15 Second

MOVIE REVIEW
Tenement
–

Genre: Horror, Thriller
Year Released: 2024, 2025
Runtime: 1h 28m
Director(s): Sokyou Chea, Inrasothythep Neth
Writer(s): Sokyou Chea, Inrasothythep Neth
Cast: Thanet Thorn, Yoshihiko Hosoda, Sveng Socheata, Rous Mony, Katsuya Maiguma
Where to Watch: in theaters and on VOD October 24, 2025

RAVING REVIEW: TENEMENT starts with a moment: a Japanese-Cambodian manga artist flies to Phnom Penh after her mother’s death to reconnect with family and, hopefully, with a part of herself that distance turned abstract. She rents an apartment in a crumbling housing block once filled with memories her mother never fully shared. Relatives welcome her, neighbors are intrigued, and this old apartment seems eager to help the healing process along. Then the walls begin to talk—just not in a language that comfort understands.

As a concept, that’s a strong platform. The film uses a familiar haunted-building premise to explore cultural inheritance, diaspora longing, and the traps that form when community protection crosses a line. What initially appears as kindness shifts into oversight and then into ownership. The apartment becomes less a setting than a contract, and our lead realizes too late that she’s agreed to terms she didn’t read. That slow unmasking is where TENEMENT is most compelling: the smile, a shared story that sounds rehearsed, a hallway that never feels empty even when it is.

Thanet Thorn carries the film with a quiet presence. Her Soriya isn’t naive; she’s cautious and observant, hoping this trip gives shape to the fog around her mother’s past. Thorn lets you see the tug-of-war inside the character—gratitude when relatives open their arms, suspicion when the building’s “care” tightens into surveillance, and the quiet guilt that comes with realizing your desire to belong might have blinded you to warnings. Yoshihiko Hosoda, as her boyfriend Daichi, brings steadiness and concern. He reads as the outsider even when both of them are, and that creates useful friction in scenes where trust is being negotiated. Sveng Socheata adds structure as Aunt Mao, embodying the blend of comfort and pressure that close family can impose without noticing.

The movie’s best stretch is its middle act, where unease becomes a daily routine. Small details accumulate: decorations whose meaning isn’t fully explained, neighbors who always seem to know when Soriya’s home, conversations that feel like rehearsals for something larger. The building, modeled on Khmer Rouge–era housing, carries historical weight without diatribe. You feel as if a life lived inside rules that predate any tenant here, as if the structure itself has a say in who gets to stay and on what terms. When the ceremonial elements finally surface, they land with the right kind of dread—not just “something evil,” but a community that’s decided survival requires an arrangement no one wants to name aloud.

Where the film consistently succeeds is in making room for the storytelling. Stairwells feel like a contracting throat; courtyards behave like watchful eyes. Daylight doesn’t promise safety so much as a pause in the pressure. The apartment layout becomes a maze you start to memorize alongside Soriya, and that familiarity turns against you when paths shift under ritual control. The film never leans on spectacle; it trusts shadows, sounds from the next room, and the disorientation of waking up unsure whether the building let you sleep or simply needed time to rearrange its appetite.

A quieter element is how the story handles belonging. Return narratives often treat home as a reward for endurance. TENEMENT argues the opposite: that “home” can be an obligation backed by history, that the past can recruit you no matter how carefully you chose a life elsewhere. The neighbors aren’t caricatures of villains; they’re practitioners of a compromise the place has demanded for years. That choice—making the antagonists’ logic legible if not defensible—adds moral bite. It’s unsettling to watch Soriya’s inclusion turn into a sentence delivered with a smile.

The film invites viewers to consider how communities form survival that initially appears as kindness but eventually does not, and how grief can make any offer of care feel like safety, even when it’s the opposite. It honors the difficulty of dual identity without sermonizing, and it captures a lived-in corner of Phnom Penh rarely centered in international releases. That matters. Even when its answers are foggy, its core concern—what the living owe the dead, and what the dead can do when the living refuse—stays sharp.

TENEMENT lands as a promising debut feature that prioritizes mood and meaning over clarity. It’s a story of return that asks what happens when a place decides you’ve returned for good, whether you want to or not. Imperfect but memorable, it earns its place in the year’s conversation by giving horror a conscience—and a building that won’t stop listening.

Please visit https://linktr.ee/overlyhonestr for more reviews.

You can follow me on Letterboxd, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube. My social media accounts can also be found on most platforms by searching for 'Overly Honest Reviews'.

I’m always happy to hear from my readers; please don't hesitate to say hello or send me any questions about movies.

[photo courtesy of DARK SKY FILMS]

DISCLAIMER:
At Overly Honest Movie Reviews, we value honesty and transparency. Occasionally, we receive complimentary items for review, including DVDs, Blu-rays, CDs, Vinyl Records, Books, and more. We assure you that these arrangements do not influence our reviews, as we are committed to providing unbiased and sincere evaluations. We aim to help you make informed entertainment choices regardless of our relationship with distributors or producers.

Amazon Affiliate Links:
Additionally, this site contains Amazon affiliate links. If you purchase through these links, we may receive a commission. This affiliate arrangement does not affect our commitment to honest reviews and helps support our site. We appreciate your trust and support in navigating these links.