There’s a moment in the new trailer for 100 Nights of Hero—around 1:12—where Emma Corrin‘s Hero leans in and whispers, “Any time you feel like you need rescuing, I’ll tell a story.”
It’s not a promise. It’s a weapon.
And in the world of Migdal Bavel—a gorgeously rendered, alternate-medieval empire ruled by the ominous “Birdman”—stories are the only armor women have. Because in this realm, as the trailer chillingly implies, all rebellious women end up dead. Unless they can talk their way out of the grave.
Directed by Julia Jackman (Bonus Track), 100 Nights of Hero adapts Isabel Greenberg’s acclaimed 2016 graphic novel into a live-action fable that feels both ancient and urgently modern. It premiered in the Critics’ Week sidebar (Settimana Internazionale della Critica) at the 2025 Venice Film Festival, and IFC Films will release it in select U.S. theaters starting December 5, 2025.
The setup is deceptively simple: Cherry (Maika Monroe), trapped in a loveless marriage to the cruel Jerome, is left alone when he departs on a “business trip”—but not before making a vile wager with his friend Manfred (Nicholas Galitzine). If Manfred can seduce Cherry within 100 nights, he wins the castle… and her.
Enter Hero—Cherry’s sharp-witted maid, played with quiet intensity by Emma Corrin. Hero isn’t just a servant; she’s part of a secret society preserving the tales of women who defied the system and paid for it. And now, she must use those stories to protect Cherry—not just from Manfred’s charm, but from the empire’s machinery of erasure.
The trailer pulses with gothic romance and folk-horror unease. You see Charli XCX (yes, really) in what appears to be a spectral storyteller role, Richard E. Grant as a possibly sinister elder, and Felicity Jones in regal, ambiguous garb. Amir El-Masry grounds the ensemble with his usual gravitas.
But the real tension isn’t between Cherry and Manfred—it’s between Cherry and Hero. The trailer lingers on glances that last a beat too long, hands that almost touch, silences thick with unspoken longing. This isn’t just about fidelity to a husband; it’s about fidelity to oneself.
Jackman’s direction leans into texture: candle wax dripping on parchment, embroidered sleeves brushing stone floors, the way fog clings to castle turrets like memory. It’s The Handmaid’s Tale meets The Princess Bride—if The Princess Bride had teeth and knew how to use them.
And the trailer—lush, haunting, under two minutes—doesn’t explain the rules. It makes you feel them. Every frame whispers: You are being watched. Speak carefully.
Will it find its audience in a December crowded with awards bait and blockbusters? Maybe not widely. But for those who crave fantasy with emotional precision and political spine—this could be the sleeper hit of the season.
I saw it in Venice. I’m still thinking about that final shot: Hero closing a book as the camera pulls back to reveal hundreds more, stacked in hidden rooms beneath the castle. Stories as resistance. Stories as resurrection.
Go watch the trailer. Then ask yourself: what story would you tell to stay alive?
Why 100 Nights of Hero Stands Out in Today’s Fantasy Landscape
Myth as survival tactic
Unlike fantasy that uses lore for world-building, here myths are tactical—deployed like spells to delay death, expose lies, or ignite rebellion.
Queer subtext as narrative core
The tension between Cherry and Hero isn’t coded—it’s central. Their bond redefines “rescue” as mutual recognition, not knight-in-shining-armor tropes.
Indie scale, epic texture
Shot with intimacy but designed with grandeur—velvets, torchlight, crumbling libraries—proving you don’t need a $200M budget to build a believable alternate world.
Venice validation
Selection in Critics’ Week signals serious artistic ambition, not just genre pastiche. This is a filmmaker pushing form, not repeating it.
Cast against type
Maika Monroe sheds her horror queen aura for vulnerability; Emma Corrin trades royal poise for fierce, grounded loyalty. Even Charli XCX feels purposefully cast—not as stunt, but symbol.
FAQ
Is the film too literary for mainstream audiences?
Possibly. But that’s its strength. In an era of algorithm-driven IP, a film that trusts viewers to sit with ambiguity and metaphor feels radical.
Does the Birdman concept land in the trailer?
It’s more atmosphere than exposition—which works. His presence looms in architecture, costume, and dread. We don’t need a monologue to feel his control.
Can a story about storytelling avoid being self-indulgent?
Only if the stakes are real. Here, they are: death, erasure, silence. Every tale Hero tells is a lifeline—not a lecture.
