"The Secret Path" offers a refreshing departure from conventional LGBTQ+ narratives, steering clear of homophobia or self-loathing. Instead, it immerses viewers in a lush, low-budget production that weaves a captivating tale of love, set against the backdrop of the supernatural. The chemistry between the two leads, Darren Bransford as the rugged Frank and Henry Regan as the adorable Theo, is palpable and adds an authentic touch to the romantic scenes. The film, though not fast-paced, serves as a delightful slice of life from a unique perspective, inviting audiences to witness the profound connection between two handsome and masculine men.
If you go into The Secret Path expecting a clean, polished ghost movie with neat rules and jump-scares on schedule, you’ll probably end up annoyed. But if you’re in the mood for a scruffy little gothic love story where two guys try to disappear from the world, and the woods basically say “not so fast”, then yeah… this one can grab you.
So we’ve got Frank and Theo – two young men who are clearly lovers and clearly running from something. They talk like working-class lads, they bicker, they laugh, they flirt, they look out for each other. Early on, Frank drops the plan: the servants in this big manor are leaving because they’ve been seeing strange lights in the woods, and Frank’s like: perfect, we’ll have the whole place to ourselves. Theo is the anxious one, the guy who keeps saying “we’re not safe… not yet”, and Frank is the “relax, it’s fine” type.
They roam around the countryside, half-adventuring, half-hiding. There’s this constant vibe of: they’re trying to build a little private world where it’s “just you and me”. And honestly, those quiet moments are the best part because their relationship feels surprisingly warm and natural for a low-budget period piece.
But then the film starts sprinkling in the creepy stuff. Theo begins seeing things. Hearing things. There’s a voice and a presence tied to the woods Thomas, who shows up like a warning wrapped in a whisper: “you are not alone…”. And it’s not just spooky for spooky’s sake, because Theo’s fear isn’t random. It’s personal. It’s the fear of being left behind, the fear that love doesn’t last, the fear that something will take the one person who finally feels like home.
And here’s where the plot stops being just “romantic lads in the woods” and turns into “oh… we’re doing something darker.” Because Frank and Theo aren’t only hiding. They’re stealing bodies. Straight up. They dig up coffins at night and plan to sell what they can. Frank is the one driving it “a few more nights and we’ll have enough money, we’ll get on a ship… get to the Americas… I’m going to build us a house.” It’s desperate, it’s grim, and it makes sense in a rough survival way. They’re not doing it because they’re evil they’re doing it because they’re two men with no safe place and no clean options.
Then comes the detail that kicks the paranoia into overdrive: Theo finds a letter and reads it to Frank it’s from Emily to her husband Charles, begging him to come back, saying he’s changed and that he’s bringing the Devil to their door. Theo connects this “Charles” to the “gentleman” he thinks he’s seen. And suddenly the ghost story isn’t abstract anymore – it’s attached to names, guilt, and something that feels like a curse you stepped into by accident.
Frank tries to keep it together, but the film keeps squeezing them. There’s injury. There’s blood. There are moments where Theo looks like he’s slipping out of reality. Frank’s backstory about his brother Albert getting killed by lightning isn’t just random trauma-dumping either, it’s basically the film saying: death follows these people, and it doesn’t always need a reason.
By the time you reach the final stretch, you’re not watching a “haunted manor” movie anymore. You’re watching a relationship under siege from poverty, from fear, from whatever is in that forest, and from the one thing neither of them can control: the idea that love might not be enough to save you.
My honest take? The filmmaking is rough in places. The camera can be shaky, the pacing is slow, and it sometimes feels like it’s stretching atmosphere because it doesn’t have money for much else. But the core works: Frank and Theo feel real together, and the story has this dirty, poetic sadness to it. It’s less “boo!” and more “something is wrong in this world, and these two are trying to make a home inside it.”
If you like low-budget queer period pieces with a moody supernatural edge, this is worth a watch. If you need tight plotting and clean horror mechanics, you might end up yelling at the screen. But even then – the couple is hard not to root for.
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