*The Swarm* (2023) is a chilling French horror film that uses the unsettling behavior of insects to explore grief, survival, and the desperate choices people make when pushed to the brink. The story centers on Virginie, a widowed single mother struggling to provide for her two children, teenage Laura and young Gaston, after the tragic suicide of her husband. With debts mounting and her family’s future uncertain, Virginie takes a risky gamble on an unconventional source of income: breeding locusts as a sustainable, alternative protein crop for human consumption.
At first, the locusts are unproductive and disappointing, leaving Virginie frustrated and the farm financially strained. Her daughter Laura is embarrassed by their unusual business, while Gaston dreams of attending soccer camp—an opportunity that seems increasingly out of reach. It’s only when Virginie discovers that the locusts thrive on blood rather than feed that her operation begins to flourish. She orders gallons of blood from a local blood bank and feeds the locusts, watching their numbers surge and her profits finally grow. The farm becomes more successful, and for a moment it seems like hope might finally return to her family’s life.
As the blood-fed locusts multiply, Virginie’s life becomes consumed by the farm. The long hours and gruesome work take a toll on her physically and emotionally. When the blood bank suddenly stops deliveries, she faces a terrifying new problem: her profit depends entirely on finding new blood supplies. Her increasingly erratic behavior and the mysterious circumstances surrounding the missing deliveries heighten the tension, pushing the story toward a horrifying climax.
While *The Swarm* delivers on creepy imagery and suspense, its deeper themes resonate long after the final scene. The film reflects on the exhausting burden of single parenthood, the societal pressure to succeed against impossible odds, and the extreme lengths to which someone might go in order to protect and provide for their family. Virginie’s transformation from struggling farmer to obsessive caretaker of a deadly swarm mirrors the way real-world desperation can warp priorities and blur moral boundaries
Director Just Philippot masterfully balances atmospheric tension with social commentary, using the locusts not just as a source of fear but as a symbol of uncontrolled forces that can upend life when human needs collide with nature’s unpredictability. The film’s unsettling soundscape—the constant buzzing and rustling of insects—adds to the sense of dread that permeates the narrative.
Ultimately, *The Swarm* is a horror story at heart, but it’s one grounded in human struggle. It reminds us that fear often stems not just from external threats, but from the internal conflicts and sacrifices we endure for the ones we love.
