When love is forbidden by gods, it becomes something else.

In The Serpent’s Bride, Anya Taylor-Joy portrays Elira, a woman chosen by an ancient ritual to wed the guardian spirit of her village — a creature half serpent, half divine. But when she falls for a mortal hunter (Tom Hardy), the serpent god awakens — jealous, furious, and heartbroken. Every kiss, every betrayal, every drop of rain feels like the heartbeat of something watching from beneath the earth.

The film weaves myth with madness — a tragic dance between devotion and damnation. The serpent is not merely a monster, but a reflection of love’s consuming hunger: to possess, to protect, to destroy. The line between god and beast dissolves as Elira’s soul begins to change — part woman, part myth.

Visually, it’s a fevered dream of scales and tears — light slithering like breath, the forest alive with whispers and eyes. The horror is not in the beast, but in how much humanity still loves it.

And when the serpent calls your name, the echo sounds like love