Killing of a Sacred Deer: Consequences of Addiction

It opens with a scene of open-heart surgery—an unflinching look at the stark reality of medical intervention. This visceral imagery sets the tone for the film’s exploration of consequences. Just as one must undergo heart surgery when they neglect their health, the film argues that avoiding accountability for one’s actions only makes matters worse.

At its core, The Killing of a Sacred Deer mirrors the experience of addiction—particularly the way addicts often evade responsibility, blame others, and ultimately drag their loved ones into their self-destruction. Steven Murphy, played by Colin Farrell, is an actual addict in the film, having performed surgery while intoxicated. Like many addicts, his actions don't just affect him; they devastate his entire family. Research supports this: according to the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA), children of parents with substance use disorders are at significantly higher risk for emotional, behavioral, and academic struggles. Addiction is rarely an isolated issue—it radiates outward, often harming loved ones more than the individual struggling with substance abuse.

Yorgos Lanthimos’ signature style—a slightly off-kilter reality where something feels just a hair out of place—heightens the film’s unsettling nature. In The Lobster and Kinds of Kindness, this oddness manifests in surreal societal rules, but here, it emerges in the eerie, unexplained paralysis of the children and the parents’ display of favoritism. Nicole Kidman’s character clearly favors her son, while Farrell’s character favors his daughter. Both parents are verbally and physically dismissive toward their less-favored child, reinforcing the unsettling dysfunction at the heart of the film.

One of the film’s most chilling moments is when Nicole Kidman’s character, who initially defends her son, quickly shifts her loyalty when she realizes her own survival is at stake. This abrupt detachment from maternal instinct is deeply disturbing. Traditionally, we expect parents to sacrifice themselves for their children, yet here, the idea never crosses either parent’s mind. Instead, the family members desperately cling to their own self-preservation, mirroring the selfishness of addiction itself—where an addict's survival instinct often overrides their love for those closest to them.

This theme of favoritism and fractured family dynamics reminded me of The Squid and the Whale, another film that explores sibling rivalries and parental favoritism. That film, though pretentious by design, made me want to shake Jesse Eisenberg’s character and yell, “Can't you see your mother loves you? Can't you see she’s a good person unlike your father?” A similar frustration arises in The Killing of a Sacred Deer, where the children compete for their father’s favor without hesitation through transactional behavior. Even when a gun is introduced in the film’s climax, no one screams or cries. It’s deeply disturbing to witness a family so stripped of warmth and natural connection, competing for attention or approval from the one that put them in this situation. I haven’t yet seen The Favourite, another Lanthimos film, but I wonder if this exploration of power dynamics and favoritism is a recurring theme in his work. I even found myself curious about his personal background—does he have unresolved conflicts with his own family? (Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any information on this.)

Ultimately, The Killing of a Sacred Deer is a haunting meditation on addiction, guilt, and self-preservation. The film forces us to ask difficult questions: When do we face our own consequences? How much suffering must we endure before we take responsibility? And in the process, who suffers the most? If addiction is about avoiding pain, this film suggests that, in the end, that pain will always find its way home.