Last Shift (2014)

Oh hey Paimon! Listen, I know we had a rocky start with that first viewing of Hereditary, but I'm here now and I'm ready to listen.

I guess Last Shift doesn't really bury the lead here. There's a demon in this! If you're into cult-y, demon-y shenanigans then this little flick directed and co-written (along with Scott Poiley) by Anthony DiBlasi, is surprisingly unsettling and... full disclosure... I had to turn it off 30mins in the first time, as I was alone downstairs in my house and got freaked out. For that reason alone it gets points!

And so attempt #2, with company and knowing a little more about what to expect, I checked out this story of rookie cop Jessica Loren (Juliana Harkavy) spending the night in a soon-to-be abandoned police station. The old Assault on Precinct 13 location treatment.

There may only be a single locale for Last Shift - apparently it was an actual redundant police station - but it's used fantastically. Loren, initially bored and then increasingly on edge, wanders the empty halls and rooms of the precinct; experiencing strange noises and visions of a spine-chilling, violent past that played out within its walls.

We learn along with her that it may be more than just bad luck placing her on this doomed shift, in this doomed building. Her father's time - and death - as a police officer may be relevant, too.

The scares are often of the jump variety here, and there is at least one moment of that once heavily-relied-upon effect of sped up ghouls being ghoulish (that kind of 90s/early 2000s music video editing thing... yawn). However, the cult/demon visuals are pretty jarring and disturbing when they come, so this lends some heft to the proceedings. Despite some questionable paths getting us there, I found the scares and creepiness ultimately successful.


❝I am the dancing flame.❞
− John Michael Paymon

So, I mentioned Paimon earlier. His incarnation here is as a Charles Manson-esque cult leader called "Paymon" (Joshua Mikel). I'm not well-versed enough in my occult history to have recognised the name without the help of Hereditary, but I thought it was pretty cool to see him featured in something else. 

According to Wikipedia these are the only two films with a plot where Paimon comes up. Demon-specific double bill, anyone?* Though I think Last Shift would pair better with Let Us Prey for strong female police officers getting more than they anticipated during their first night on the job.

 *See my "double bill idea" tag. Maybe one day I can actually make use of all these?!

I caught this on Shudder but as usual, it's probably pretty easy to find. A movie that's smaller in scope, but with atmosphere and nastiness (that ending!) to feel like it deserves a seat at the table.

Midsommar (2019)

Okay, so just a couple of warnings.
1) 🚨Spoilers🚨
2) It's about to get real fucking feminal* up in here.

*"relating to a woman". It's archaic but I kind of love it.

I have been processing this film for a while. Letting it sink in and then rise to the surface of my thoughts over and over. Usually, I try to bang out reviews fast but this one needed time. Honestly, I still don't quite know how I'm going to approach it. I'm writing and hoping my thoughts align, somehow!

To begin, I'll say that Midsommar was a balm on the wounds still smarting from my terrible viewing experience of Hereditary. There is much here linking the two: the theme of grief/trauma, the  bordering on (and sometimes tipping into) comedic melodrama, Aster's delicious visual style, and the symbolism (triangles: the shape of choice for the horror genre).

I now definitely count myself among those excited for his next film and how these explorations and links may continue.

Christian (Jack Reynor) and Dani (Florence Pugh)

In his Fangoria interview with Jordan Peele, Aster calls this a "breakup movie dressed in the clothes of a folk horror film". And ponders - as this chat took place before Midsommar hit our screens - how people may feel as they leave the theater after.

"I hope people walk out feeling elated and happy, despite the fact they just watched a small massacre".

Mission accomplished, Ari. I felt like standing up and applauding at the film's end. That smile on Dani's face... I felt invigorated.

What's fantastic about Midsommar is not only the juxtaposition of horrible imagery, stunning tableau-like shots and bizarre glimpses into the idiosyncrasies of Hårga - though those aspects are wonderful, of course - it's that we witness Dani and Christian on this journey of the slow implosion of their relationship, to the point where one partner makes a decision to have the other murdered in a ritual sacrifice and it doesn't feel at all excessive. It's a "horrific" breakup quite literally.

Perhaps it's because I identified with Dani so much... but really, who hasn't wanted to burn a shitty boyfriend alive?!

Aster draws these characters with care; many of the smaller moments feel so real and they work to build an understanding of the emotional chasm between many of the men and women we meet. Dani's stream-of-consciousness phone call to her friend about her relationship; bringing an issue to a partner only to find yourself apologising by the end of the conversation; the way Ingemar (Hampus Hallberg) and Connie (Ellora Torchia) interpret a past situation so differently ("we dated" / "...we had a drink"), Dani's breathing when she's trying to hold off a panic attack, and how Christian silently, awkwardly holds her as she screams her loss during the opening scenes, compared to the women of Hårga who emote along with her later on.

Over the past year or so, a number of films have been made that have resulted in me sitting back, exhaling, and realising what a sense of power and strength they conveyed to a female audience. This is a feeling that pop culture has been handing men since the dawn of cinema, but now it feels like new things are playing in front of my eyes that strike something deep in my being. Something I didn't know I was missing until relatively recently.

Stacie Ponder on Gaylords of Darkness called it a "power fantasy paradigm" and that's such an awesome way to phrase it.

There's the connection, sisterhood and female leaders of Suspiria; of being enough and not having to prove anything (especially to men) from Captain Marvel*. And now with this, again a feeling of female connection (the dancing, the breathing/primal screaming, the sex scene) and finding a strength you always had within yourself. Her smile at the end broke me and rebuilt me all at once. I felt my own face reflecting Dani's. It was art!

*Yes, not a genre film and yes I was suprised I felt so empowered by that movie. But I did!

This film brought me such joy in so many ways. It also made me want to a) watch it again, immediately, and b) rewatch Aster's debut feature with a renewed appreciation for this writer/director's unique vision and voice. It is MIND-BLOWING that this is only his second feature film.

It also brought to mind several others that beg to be revisited - or at least included, as I mentally curate my Midsommar-inspired film festival...

• The Wicker Man - ...obviously
• Kill List - Cults, symbols
• A Field In England - Outdoors; hallucinogenic visuals, mysticism
• Apostle - A small community with shocking traditions; becoming one with the earth
• The Endless - Cult/commune; clueless newcomers
• Suspiria (2018) - Sisterhood; female leader; dancing as a powerful energy

I'm definitely going to be seeking some of these out again as I ponder "folk horror" for the remainder of the summer, wait impatiently for Midsommar's Blu-ray release and work on a flower crown.

This is a beautiful, perfectly woven tapestry of humour, heartbreak, and death. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

The Ritual (2017)

I fancied watching this again recently, and I'm really glad I did. Spoilers incoming!

Based on a novel by Adam Nevill, directed by David Bruckner (who co-wrote and directed Amateur Night in V/H/S and The Accident in Southbound) this Netflix movie takes us deep into dark Swedish forests with a group of friends.

Dom, Luke, Phil and Hutch.

Tension exists between these men, as we find out that Luke (Rafe Spall) carries a heavy burden of guilt for not stepping in during a violent attack which opens the film. The knowledge they all have of Luke essentially standing by as their friend Robert (Paul Reid) was killed hangs heavily over the beginning of their trip. We see Luke wake from a nightmare about the murder, and throughout our time with him images ripple through his reality of the trauma from that night.

These scenes are some of my favourites, as imagination and reality/fabricated building interior and forest mesh so effortlessly and organically together. It's incredibly impressive and extremely disconcerting. It reads very much like something out of a dream, where details and settings bleed together in a singular landscape.

On the night Rob died the lads were trying to decide where to go on holiday together, and now, six months later they find themselves hiking as a tribute to him (as he'd originally suggested it). Hutch (Robert James-Collier) is clearly the most comfortable in the outdoors, with the others joining through a sense of sad duty. These are middle-class affluent types, paying £200 for their hiking boots but neglecting to break them in before the trip. They are kind of out of their depth before they even set foot in the forest.

The turning point of events comes after Dom (Sam Troughton) gets hurt, and they make the decision to take a short-cut back to their lodge. Rather than staying out in the open, they realise with reluctance that entering the dense forest is the quickest way back.

❝What's up? Are you scared of the woods?❞

It's dark, damp, and visibility is low through the arrow-straight trees. Luke repeatedly thinks he sees a glimpse of something moving in the distance and tensions increase as pain and exhaustion take hold. Everything changes after their first night in the forest. Breaking into an abandoned cabin during a storm, they wake the following morning, nerves shredded from terrifying nightmares and sleepwalking. 

There is a palpable feeling of a dark presence infiltrating their minds as they slept, pushing its way into their deepest fears. The most alarming awakening is from Phil (Arsher Ali) who is found naked in a "praying" position in front of a terrifying headless totem.

No one, especially Phil, is ever the same after that night. Arsher Ali doesn't have an awful lot to do aside from this, unfortunately, but he gives a haunting performance as someone who can't process or escape the fear of his ordeal. Phil is shell-shocked and violated.

Similar to the "lost in the woods" idea, the stripping back of anything our characters have -  in this case: possessions, unity, sanity - is not a unique narrative approach, but in capable hands, it's so effective. The lads start with the latest gear, and end with nothing, having lost tents, party members, and a full grip on what the fuck is even going on. With a steady hand, The Ritual peels back to the terrified primal core of these characters.

The creature reveal is what solidifies the success of this movie for me. This beast is a "Jötunn", an ancient god worshiped by villagers and offered sacrifices of unsuspecting visitors to the area (their possessions dot the landscape, nature claiming them in varying degrees). In turn, the locals are granted unnaturally long lives. The things we do for eternity, eh? I did find it interesting that none of the villagers seem particularly happy, however. Their lot appears more duty and fear-fueled than actively wanting to be eternally stuck in this existence.

The design of the Jötunn is stunning, even in full view it's difficult to comprehend as it seems compromised of human and beast body parts, as well as having aspects of the forest, too. It feels profane in a way that both captivates and repels.

As Luke attempts to escape his fate of being trapped forever, this showstopping moment is captured:

If he had lost his mind then and there, who could have blamed him?

As the third act draws to a close, the warm tones of a burning village give way to a landscape bathed in dawn light. In the far distance we see a car on a road. Luke is returning to civilisation and leaving old gods behind. At least physically. He was chosen because his "pain was great" - is his pain gone, by the end? I doubt it. If anything it's deeper, along with his guilt. His primal scream at the creature stuck at its forest's edge certainly hints at a lifetime of nightmares to come. 

This movie would pair well with Blair Witch for a night's viewing, as I think they'd complement one another for a "we're lost in the woods and we're f*cked!" double bill. Tents and trees by torchlight; distant, gigantic sounds you can't identify... That kind of fear pre-dates almost everything, it's woven into our lizard brains.

The Ritual is streaming on Netflix now. I appreciated the abrupt, not-necessarily-sad but definitely not happy ending (see also: Calibre). Beautiful landscapes, old gods and flawed humans - what's not to love? Very tempted to pick up the book and see how the two compare.

As Above, So Below (2014)

Well this fits nicely next to Verónica, because writer/director John Erick Dowdle also directed Quarantine, the American remake of [Rec]. It all ties in!

Maybe because it was actually filmed in the Paris catacombs, or that there are some genuine moments of "oh fuuuck", or that I was reminded that it follows Dante's Inferno... and maybe all three, but I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this the second time around.

This found footage flick follows a group as they break into the intensely claustrophobic catacombs that lie beneath Paris. They're searching, we're shown in annoying scenes of exposition/set-up, for a mysterious ancient stone and possibly treasure, too. Lead character Scarlett (Perdita Weeks) is a tomb-raider style daredevil daughter of some old bloke who discovered the secrets of alchemy. Or something. I dunno, it's not really that important.

On their underground adventures, Scarlett and her accumulated crew (including Ben Feldman, "Ginsberg" from Mad Men) find both the desired stone and loot, but in the process, they also encounter cults, violent apparitions of their past, and maybe even Satan himself.

Honestly, the plot is kind of secondary to what Dowdle is trying to achieve (down) here. 

Rather than do the decent thing of just losing their minds with fright after the first cave-in, the group continues on as they become repeatedly trapped and blocked in their passage through the catacombs; journeying deeper, further, squeezing through tiny tunnels and dropping down bottomless-looking pits.

For an atheist, I do still find religious/blasphemous-tinged horror pretty unnerving when done correctly (just ask Baskin) and so as the weary travellers realised they may be descending into Hell, I definitely found it an unnerving experience. The imposing darkness and impossibly labyrinthine routes they take don't help to un-jangle the nerves, either.

❝According to mythology, that's the inscription over the gates of hell.❞

 − Scarlett.

As the group thins, we learn more about what this system of caves really represent, and how the remaining individuals might escape. The aspect of the narrative with the mystical stone is absurd, but at least it allows for some more scares.

Two impressive set pieces have always stuck in my mind from this film, even when I initially wasn't convinced of its merits. The burning car deep underground, and the manhole cover scene at the film's end. For all the irritation I felt at Scarlett & Co. at times, the inventiveness and audacity to conceive of and execute both of these ideas is something I must tip my hat to. 

As Above, So Below is an effective, imaginatively claustrophobic nightmare punctuated by solid scares. It must have played brilliantly in a cinema environment.

Ignore the earnest jabbering at the beginning and stick with it, it's streaming on Netflix now.

The Endless (2017)

I was THRILLED to see this one drop on Netflix recently.

It's absolutely apparent that The Endless comes from the same hearts, minds, and imaginations as Spring. This is another beautiful, thoughtful, funny horror from Moorhead and Benson, and I really loved it!

Justin (Justin Benson) and Aaron (Aaron Moorhead)

It feels very shared universe (more on that later), displaying the same over-saturated, dusty, dreamy quality as their 2014 effort. There's also a similar feeling of this dream-like existence being on the cusp of something immense and threatening.

The Endless is a story of two brothers (played with warmth and humour by Benson and Moorhead themselves) visiting the supposed cult they grew up in, after several years trying to have normal lives out in the real world.

What is initially planned to be fleeting visit leads to some shocking discoveries once back within the folds of this group.

❝The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the Unknown.❞  

− H.P. Lovecraft. 

The "cult" members all seem perfectly nice, if a little weird; the oddness and inexplicable occurrences at their camp becoming more frequent and unsettling with a steady pace. From the get-go we know something is wrong, but Moorhead & Benson take their time giving the audience a breadcrumb trail of glimpses and moments as we discover the unbelievable truth along with the brothers.

It feels at once a cop-out and a courtesy to anyone interested in seeing this to speak as little as possible about its major plot points or themes, other than saying I was surprised how much heart it had, ultimately. And like Spring, they struck a beautiful balance here, making this tale at once so intimate and so astronomical.

So yes, if you liked Spring, definitely see this. If you haven't seen Spring then I heartily recommend both! I am really enjoying the work from this team and I must seek out their first film, Resolution, which somehow I'd missed. There is a very definite crossover narrative from that debut to The Endless, but the filmmakers themselves say you don't have to have seen either to enjoy both.

If you have seen The Endless already, may I recommend this podcast episode from The Evolution of Horror, talking to Benson and Moorhead themselves? They seem like such nice blokes, and they have some very interesting and entertaining stuff to say!

The House of the Devil (2009)

If you've heard one thing about Ti West's The House of the Devil, it's more than likely how successfully it mimics the slasher films of the 70s/80s, despite being from the early 2000's. The level of detail and care is indeed astounding, with really only some familiar genre actors giving the game away.

There are clear acts in this movie; the first introducing us to Samantha (Jocelin Donahue), a sophomore at university who's looking to move out of her shared dorm into a cool new apartment. Donahue plays Sam perfectly and charmingly unremarkable - an opening scene shows she's "landlady approved": testament to how vanilla she is - and both her sexually active, punk roommate and street-wise best friend Megan (Greta Gerwig) appear to be more interesting characters. Sam has uncomplicated wants at this point in her life: she just needs enough money to write the aforementioned new landlady (Dee Wallace!) a cheque.

❝It could be awful. It could be from hell.❞

− Megan.

The second act establishes that Sam is so desperate for money that she's willing to make some questionable decisions when it comes to a babysitting gig she answered an ad about. She accepts the job for that night - a night of a lunar eclipse, no less - with little-to-no information, and when she meets the family, she ignores her instincts (and those of Megan) about how increasingly odd this all is. We watch her make herself at home in what is a quintessential house for this type of movie (think the sorority house in Black Christmas but scaled down a bit; lots of stairs and passageways). She orders pizza, dances around to her Walkman, and does a little light snooping. Normal babysitter stuff.

Come the third act, Sam has shed the shackles of her earlier worry, and descended through woozy fear into full blown survivalist hysteria. Behind the doors she neglected to open during her nosing, this house holds its darkest secrets, and once she wakes up to them it's the beginning of the end.

Shot on 16mm film and using the same techniques from that time too, this is both a loving tribute and an enjoyable movie in its own right. Claiming to be based on true events from the "Satanic Panic" era in the US, its 95min runtime makes use of every second to establish Sam's plain existence and then tear it apart.

This awareness of itself in the best possible way, along with a gently creepy turn from Tom Noonan, and beautifully sewn seeds of dread as the film progresses, plus some wonderful, Exorcist-like subliminal work in the final act, make The House of the Devil an absolute treat.

It's streaming on Shudder at time of writing. 

Once you've seen it, check out some of the alternative/fan-made poster art that can be found online. There are some truly gorgeous ones out there and people really had fun with the retro vibe.

Baskin (2015)

Bathed in beautiful blues and reds, with an often pounding heartbeat of a soundtrack, Baskin is a nightmarish 1hr37min. You may well breathe a sigh of relief once it's done.

Directed by Can Evrenol as his first feature, this is the long-form version of his short film of the same name, describing the same events. Here's the Netflix blurb:

"A group of tough Turkish lawmen answer a call from a remote town and stumble into a gory Black Mass that appears to be occurring literally in Hell."

The intensity of that is well-deserved. As they venture further down into the darkness of the sub-levels of an abandoned building, these cops discover rooms of abhorrent acts, torture, mutilation, and satanic rituals.

Time for these men skips and loops, too, so along with some mind-bending and batshit encounters, we're forced to question too what is real, or what is happening when.

Initially with only their torchlight to guide them, we see slices of horrors before being able to take in the full tableau. Catching glimpses of incredibly fucked up shit is arguably worse, because your brain fills in the gaps.

Oh that's what she's doing!

And then comes the point where you're able to see everything that's happening, and you wish for the darkness and ignorance again.


Some horror films become more than simply "horrific"; those that use their imagery in such a way that it becomes a deeper level of offensive or taboo-breaking. Not just the subject matter, but the way it's presented. I found Baskin to be such a film. I'm not in the least bit religious, but there were things in this that disturbed me more than normal horror fare. The vibe of this film is evil. Its intensity and the blood-drenched, religious forward-motion of the characters reminded me of Martyrs (a film I like, but have never been able to watch more than once).

It's an understatement to say that Baskin is not for the squeamish, or the easily shocked. It's beautiful to look at, but what you are looking at is... well, deeply fucked up, a lot of the time! This is a serial killer's fever dream.

Streaming on Netflix at time of writing...

The Void (2016)

Click on that image above and open her right up.

And if there's ever a tagline that's made my mouth water, it's that one.

(Note: If you've yet to see this film, I'd recommend not reading any further until you do. This is definitely a film that's better viewed with as little knowledge of it as possible. Just a heads up).

While neither as epic as The Thing or quite as deeply unsettling as Prince of Darkness, this film benefits from being reminiscent of both, along with a dash of H.P. Lovecraft thrown in for good measure.

I've not read everything from Lovecraft, but I've made a pretty good start, and I must confess that the the notion of other worlds full of tentacled gods is a very attractive one. And so, The Void...

This is a one-location, cult / body / inter-dimensional horror, with equal amounts of creeping dread and full-on, mind-bending gore.

Centred around a group of people stuck in a hospital about to be closed down (so reduced staff and mostly desolate), they are unable to leave due to knife-wielding, white robed cult members in vast numbers outside.

"Something is calling them all here..."

Who are they? Why do they have black triangles on their robes? Who's this bloke the cop just brought in, covered in blood that isn't his? And why did a nurse just try to cut her own face off?!

As the tale unravels, so does the sanity of the remaining characters, each seeing poignant but horrific personal hallucinations. All of these people appear to have suffered a deep tragedy, and this presence taps right into that, as it lures them deeper into the bowels of the hospital.

Inter-cut with the drama we see flashes of vast alien wastelands (which I found to be one of the most frightening things about this movie) and writhing, inhuman flesh. There is a substantial, creeping feeling that something is coming... Or waiting... Or both.

This triangle motif is never really explained, but that's fine, as an emblem within this world (and door into another) it works brilliantly.

The practical effects are so good that one of the creatures actually made me flashback to a horror short story that gave me nightmares in my early teens. These disturbing creations also brought to mind Splinter, as it's clear the entities inside of these destroyed human bodies don't know (or don't care) how to wear them in any way that isn't profane.

If you're looking for something tense and at the same time claustrophobic and cosmically horrific, you can do a Hell of a lot worse than this.

Starry Eyes (2014)

From the synth score to the retro looking titles, Starry Eyes seemed like a film I would really get into... but something about it just didn't stick.

Charting the questionable ascent into stardom of aspiring young actress Sarah Walker, this is a slow moving body horror... cult... slasher? (an argument could be made for any and all of those sub-genres). There is a lot of build up, a very grisly payoff and some gruesomeness along the way. But somehow the pacing seems off. We shouldn't have to wait until the last 15min to be fully engaged with this movie, right?

Sarah lives in LA and works a crappy job while going to auditions for acting roles. She's competent enough as an actress, that much we see - but she's not getting anywhere, and after each disappointing audition experience, she goes into a kind of... demonic, hair-pulling seizure. For one audition she's caught in the bathroom doing this by the casting director and asked to return to the room and do it again, to order. After some initial hesitation, she complies.

It appears that these filmmakers are after something very special from their leading ladies.

I will concede that this poster art is gorgeous though.

I will give writer and director team Kevin Kolsch and Dennis Widmyer credit for not having this play out exactly as a run-of-the-mill Faustian tale, and there are some really arresting visuals throughout, particularly in the final sequence (even though what happens is kind of signposted about halfway through the run time).

The slightly hyper-real vibe about the movie also works to make everything feel off-kilter and nightmarish. Most of the film is shot in a cold, blue light; going against the warm tones of Los Angeles that we're used to in movies. This doesn't seem a nice place to be.

LA itself is shown as a sleazy, unfriendly place full of shallow young people with no clue what they're doing. And this fact specifically posed a problem for me.

For one thing, all of Sarah's friends are pretty shitty. One in particular had my husband yelling "Christ, just kill her already!" so yes, you know or at least hope that they are going to get theirs, eventually. The problem is that it takes sooo long to get there! At least with a conventional slasher (a good one anyway) you know kills are going to happen with some kind of regularity.

Ordinarily, films that are still and slow are more satisfying in their denouement than this. What was I missing?

I don't know... maybe I'm being too harsh. It had occurred to me that this might be good to watch in a double bill with The Invitation. Both are Hollywood hills-centric with a cult twist, and maybe a themed re-watch might make me appreciate it a little more...