
Cradle of Doom opens in near silence and ends in a scream. In the space between, it constructs a harrowing portrait of psychological decline—quietly, intimately, and without spectacle. Anchored by a searing performance from Katricia “Coco” Kariuki, this psychological horror short subverts genre expectations, prioritizing psychological truth over theatrics.
Kariuki plays Alisha Walker, a new mother experiencing postpartum psychosis. This isn’t the kind of horror driven by gore or jump scares. Instead, it’s rooted in spaces we all recognize—a dim hallway, an unmade crib, a mirror held too long. Kariuki approaches the character not as a woman unraveling in dramatic fashion, but as someone fraying by degrees. Her silences are active. Her stillness isn’t emptiness—it’s compression.
As Alisha’s internal world narrows, the film’s camera tightens its focus, making the atmosphere claustrophobic. Director Mac Leshabane allows the performance to lead, never imposing mood through editing, but rather building tension through careful observation. Kariuki’s performance unfolds in micro-movements: the shift in breath before turning a corner, the moment of hesitation before reaching for her child.
What makes her portrayal exceptional is its restraint. She never overplays Alisha’s breakdown. She allows us to see the woman behind the fear—smart, tired, alone, and slipping. The result is a performance so specific it feels lived, not performed.
Cradle of Doom has won multiple international awards, including Best Actress, Best Sound Design, and Best Thriller. It deserves them. But more than that, it deserves to be studied—as an example of what happens when horror trusts its performers to carry the weight of psychological realism. Kariuki doesn’t just act fear. She calibrates it, breath by breath.
Cradle of Doom: Why This Film on Postpartum Psychosis Feels Urgently Necessary
Mental health is frequently misrepresented in film. Postpartum psychosis, in particular, is rarely explored with depth or dignity. Cradle of Doom changes that. It doesn’t dramatize mental illness for shock. It invites the viewer into the slow, suffocating interiority of it. And it does so through the performance of Katricia “Coco” Kariuki—quiet, precise, and devastating.
Kariuki’s portrayal of Alisha is not a caricature of crisis. It’s a study in accumulation. The weight of new motherhood, isolation, and unspoken fear builds in her body language. There’s minimal dialogue, yet her performance communicates the overwhelm of being unwell and unheard. It’s not just acting. It’s an act of understanding.
Films like Cradle of Doom matter because they tell hard truths in spaces where silence is the norm. Postpartum psychosis is terrifying—but what’s more terrifying is how few people talk about it. This short film doesn’t offer solutions. It offers visibility. And that makes it powerful.
The film has received recognition across several international festivals, including awards for Best Actress, Best VFX, and Best Thriller. But its impact goes beyond trophies. Conversations after screenings have centered on maternal mental health, on the invisibility of early motherhood struggles, and on how media can begin to reflect the complexity of this experience.
Cradle of Doom is not just a horror short. It is a call to pay attention. Through Kariuki’s performance, the unseen becomes seen—and that is its greatest achievement.