The Severed Sun (2024) is the first feature film of writer and director Dean Puckett, who has previously directed several documentaries and short films – notably, The Sermon (2017) and Satan’s Bite (2017), both of which explore themes similar to The Severed Sun. Filmed on Bodmin Moor in Cornwall, The Severed Sun follows an isolated community led by a religious leader, The Pastor (played brilliantly by Toby Stephens). The group’s way of living and dress at first suggest that this film is set in the past, but there are modern buildings, slag heaps, industrial ruins – and so perhaps this community is surviving in a near and potentially post-apocalyptic moment (something Puckett has confirmed in interviews). It quickly becomes clear that the community is strictly, even violently, hierarchical, with the uncompromising Pastor as unchallenged leader of the community and the men in the community as rulers in the family. The trajectory of the film is driven by the film’s rebellious protagonist (who also happens to be the Pastor’s daughter), Magpie (Emma Appleton, also brilliantly played). For her resistance – and the film begins with her killing her abusive husband – Magpie is ostracized by her community, labeled a witch. She refuses to be a victim, however, fighting back against the familial and group structures that oppress her and others in the community.
Kevin Cooney
Rich in motifs associated with folk horror- from collective derangement to debilitating superstitions- Daiei Motion Picture Company’s The Whale God (1962) depicts a village’s descent into madness in its quest to slay a deified cetacean known as Kujiragami, or the Whale God. Rather than fitting neatly into the folk horror genre, however, the film tells a different part of a folk horror story. The film shows the antecedent estranging events, supernatural or not, often left as background in other films. Unlike conventional folk horror portrayals of late-stage cults and rituals, The Whale God presents a community’s initial struggle and manifestation of social breakdown and collective estrangement, punctuated, as I contend, by a climax or “happening” that redefines the film as folk horror.
Aislinn Clarke Talks about Fréwaka, Her New Irish Folk Horror Film
Guest PostJohanna Isaacson
In March 2025 Aislinn Clarke visited my alma mater, University of California, Santa Cruz as part of a symposium exploring creative and critical intersections in the work of UCSC and Queens University Belfast faculty. I was fortunate to attend a screening of Aislinn’s amazing new folk horror film, Fréwaka, and to have the opportunity, along with Literature professor Renée Fox, to interview the writer/director in front of a live audience.
Fréwaka is an atmospheric, brilliantly-acted, Irish language film in which Shoo (Clare Monnelly), a young woman grieving her recently deceased mother, is sent to a rural town to care for Peig (Bríd Ní Neachtain), a disabled older woman whose home is either haunted by fearful memories or demonic fairies. The women seem to be opposites and antagonists, but, like the thorny roots which give their name to the film, their struggles and lives are complexly tangled.
Aislinn is very busy screening Fréwaka at festivals around the world, where it has been received with great enthusiasm in anticipation of its release on Shudder this week (Friday April 25, 2025). However, she still generously agreed to an interview between California and Ireland via Zoom.
Rupert Russell’s The Last Sacrifice: Murder and the Occult in ‘That Green and Pleasant Land’
Dawn KeetleyRupert Russell’s new documentary, The Last Sacrifice (2024), explores the infamous murder on February 14, 1945, of Charles Walton on Meon Hill in the village of Lower Quinton in Warwickshire, England. The Last Sacrifice is about so much more than that, however, as Russell brilliantly embeds the still-unsolved murder of Walton within the explosion of the occult, paganism, and witchcraft conspiracies in mid twentieth-century England.
The Last Sacrifice is not only about who killed Charles Walton and why, then, but about how this baffling murder case became entangled in some of the profound changes occurring in mid-century Britain. As one of the key commentators in the documentary, film historian Jonathan Rigby, puts it, the enigma of who killed Charles and Walton is also “the enigma of Britain itself.” Was Britain’s “pagan past,” he asks, “secretly alive in the present?” Check out the trailer.
Oz Perkins’ 2024 film, Longlegs, is at first glance a serial killer film, with references abounding to Jonathan Demme’s Silence of the Lambs (1991) and, to a lesser extent, David Fincher’s Seven (1995). Perkins has been quite explicit in interviews, however, that he lures viewers in with this promise and then gives them something else. That something else is an occult horror film: some critics have pointed to the influence of The Exorcist (William Friedkin, 1973), but I see more pronounced echoes of Rosemary’s Baby (Roman Polanski, 1968) and The Omen (Richard Donner, 1976). The “Hail Satan!” refrain—which serves not least as the last line of the film—definitively evokes Rosemary’s Baby.
Longlegs is, though, also folk horror—and I will be developing this perhaps not-so-obvious claim at greater length in an article I’m working on. Thus far, no one has identified the film as folk horror, except for one brief post that compares it to Texas Chain Saw Massacre. (An interesting comparison!)