Kraken (2026) A tale of tension, patience, and a creature waiting in the wings

Since André Øvredal’s era‑defining Trollhunter in 2010, there’s been a small but persistent Scandinavian micro‑scene of giant‑monster movies, even Netflix got involved through its Troll outings (2022 & 2025). Now in 2026, we have a new addition to that tradition: Pål Øie’s Kraken, released by Signature Entertainment. At one end of the spectrum sits the popcorn‑friendly modern Hollywood monster movie; at the other, the historic kaiju tradition, recently revitalised by Godzilla Minus One, which returns to a far more sombre historical tone – the very opposite of most Japanese studio monster movies made after Ishirō Honda’s landmark 1954 original. These Scandinavian entries are equally muddy in their placement: serious one outing and incredibly playful the next, horror in one movie and realistic the next. Kraken tries to have its cake and eat it in a way that many may find unsatisfying for a movie with a title as promising as “Kraken”.

We open with a series of historical snippets and news recordings featuring locals living near a fjord in Norway, each describing sightings of a creature of mammoth proportions – not dissimilar to the ones seen in any Loch Ness Monster‑adjacent fiction – before the movie jumps to the modern day. Even though several parties are involved, events revolve around a start‑up developing a piece of hardware designed to sit in bodies of water and vibrate at a frequency that prevents fish from being killed by water bugs. The project is fronted by head engineer Erik (Mikkel Bratt Silset) and the company’s corporate face, Avaldsnes (Øyvind Brandtzæg). Johanne (Sara Khorami) has returned home for the first time in years – much to everyone’s surprise – to do her job as a marine biologist and ensure the company isn’t causing undue harm to the local flora and fauna. There’s also a police officer, married to Avaldsnes, and her daughter Marie (Jenny Evensen), an ecological activist who, along with her friends, models herself on the likes of Greta Thunberg. All in all, it’s a very soap‑opera setup for a movie called Kraken. Eventually, the act of stress‑testing this device awakens the monstrous octopod, and people begin dying in mysterious ways before hell inevitably finds its way to the isolated corner of the picturesque fjord.

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As the sheer number of dramatic moving parts suggests, this is a slow burn that spends far more time on character dynamics and the gradual malfunctioning of this new piece of tech — including a pitch meeting where Avaldsnes tries to charm a room of international businessmen into funding it. And while the movie keeps everything grounded in realism, the various subplots bounce off one another in ways that would be perfectly standard – and unremarkable – in a daytime soap. The same goes for Johanne’s testing of the device and her comparisons with the historical data from Erik’s team. For much of its sprightly runtime, the movie commits to a grounded tone, investing heavily in the build‑up rather than the spectacle of the modern American monster movie. The problem is that none of these dynamics or characters are especially compelling — though I say that as someone who finds the multi‑stranded interpersonal churn of episodic storytelling rather dull. Someone more attuned to that style may find more mileage in the sixty of the ninety minutes that Øie and his writing team (Vilde Eide, Kjersti Helen Rasmussen & Natasha Arthur) devote to it. But even then, the title becomes an issue: if this were called something else and ended with thirty minutes of Kraken chaos, it would be a brilliant surprise. Because the creature is front‑and‑centre in the title, the movie sets an expectation it can’t quite square.

While it may sound like I’m down on Kraken, that isn’t entirely accurate. The build‑up is simply far too patient for its own good, because once things finally break down the movie becomes far more engaging — even if the creature work is unavoidably computer generated. It has to be; no [indie‑budget] production is ever going to realise a Kraken practically. Yet even with the threat rendered digitally, the framing and blocking of the action sequences — particularly when a tentacled arm snakes through corridors in pursuit of one of the cast — are supremely thrilling. From a boat drifting into dock with two dead teenagers to a chase through the bowels of the building, the stretch where Johanne fights for her life against this unknowingly powerful behemoth is genuinely excellent. And because these moments are so strong, you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment: why didn’t Øie lead with this level of tension, the same kind of tension that helped Øvredal’s Trollhunter become an icon of the Internet’s golden age.

The thrills aren’t solely digital, either. The water bugs that attach themselves to fish are tiny, but the ones clinging to the Kraken have grown massive, and these hard‑shelled beasties have a taste for blood — the nearest source being the staff and activists. From this, another highlight in the final half‑hour sees computer engineer Georg (Jon Erik Myre) cornered in a sequence that will delight fans of 1980s and 1990s micro‑monster horror. And that’s the ultimate frustration: when Kraken finally lives up to the promise of its title, it’s delightful. But for many, it’ll be far too little, far too late.

In the end, Kraken is a movie that proves it can thrill only after spending far too long proving it can’t. The final stretch is strong enough to hint at what this could have been, but the road there is slow, uneven and oddly timid for a movie named after a legendary sea monster. The creature deserves better. There is, however, a late scene that leaves things open enough for Øie and company to revisit this material, and if they do, the flashes of promise here suggest a follow‑up could give it the scale and urgency this outing never quite musters. I’m not saying every monster movie needs to go all‑guns‑blazing from minute one; a slow build can work. But there’s a point where a slow build becomes little more than the filmmaking team dragging their heels.

ROB’S ARCHIVE – KRAKEN (2026)