While vacationing at a remote cabin in the woods, a young girl and her parents are taken hostage by four armed strangers who demand they make an unthinkable choice to avert the apocalypse. Confused, scared and with limited access to the outside world, the family must decide what they believe before all is lost.

Release date: 3 February 2023 (UK)
Director: M. Night Shyamalan
Producers: M. Night Shyamalan, Ashwin Rajan, Marc Bienstock
Cinematography: Jarin Blaschke, Lowell A. Meyer
Distributed by: Universal Pictures
Adapted from: The Cabin at the End of the World by Paul Tremblay

A Horror Movie Review from Sarah Norris 

Knock At The Cabin feels a step away from M. Night Shyamalan’s usual highly supernatural plots and twist endings, instead focussing on the bonds of family and how far a regular couple would go to save each other and their daughter in the face of a higher power. The source material, the novel The Cabin At The End Of The World by Paul Tremblay, is more sad and thought provoking than what I would term as horror, but that’s not to say it doesn’t have a couple of horrifying moments, though not in the way you might think and Shyamalan capitalises on this.

The star of the movie is the little girl Wen - fantastically played by Kristen Cui who, at only 9 years old, has proved her acting chops already in, for me, the movie’s standout performance. On vacation with her adoptive parents Eric and Andrew (Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldridge) in a secluded woodland cabin, the three are faced with 4 armed strangers in the bizarre-est home invasion imaginable and faced with an impossible choice, the ramifications of which are genuinely world-altering.

The action kicks in within the first 10 minutes or so, and although there’s some nicely tense moments, flashbacks to both long ago and more recent scenes of Eric and Andrew’s relationship (and later, the addition of Wen to their lives) feel both too short to be more than a distraction from the here-and-now, nor offering any deeper character-building insights into their lives that made me feel more than a passing concern for the pair of them, and almost detract from the tension and pace at some points.

The 4 strangers (played by Rupert Grint, Abby Quinn, Nikki Amuka-Bird and of course Dave Bautista) pictured on the film’s promotional artwork with crudely homemade weapons, are given the chance to introduce themselves but still felt a little two dimensional until we get to some compellingly gruesome and thought-provoking scenes. Grint tries his best, with Amuka-Bird and Quinn giving more depth to their roles with longer screen-time. Leonard (excellently played by Bautista) is a pleasant surprise in the later scenes - he feels like he has grown as an actor from his earlier Marvel-days, and gives a nicely touching performance that definitely pushes his skills.

With the exception of Grint’s main (and really only scene) a couple of would-be grisly scenes are heard - with some cracking sound effects! - and seen obliquely from peeking external long-shots and glimpses through windows and sunlight-dappled trees. They feel almost sympathetic rather than out-and-out gory and fit well with the overall feel of the film of peaceful family life shattered by striking acts of violence.

The other standout pieces for me were the news broadcasts we’re privy to as catastrophe unfolds worldwide, provoking some strong emotion at the scary legitimacy of them, particularly around air travel. Some stunning environmental and weather effects add to the tension as the films draws towards the climax.

Despite having read the novel, I was still waiting for Shyamalan’s signature reliance on a twist and the ending feels decidedly off-key for his usual style. There’s still plenty to enjoy here, though, as long as you’re not expecting the next Sixth Sense or Unbreakable; the film plays to both Shyamalan’s favourite topics of faith, climate change and bad things happening to regular people, and his strength of horror in a confined space and this is a solid entry into his filmography.

Maybe not one meant for repeated viewings, but still worth 100 minutes of your time.

It’s 2023, and art discourse is everywhere. How does one, as a reviewer of media / art, even begin to parse through the waves of opinions and dialogues that surround everything nowadays? Can art truly be critiqued on its own terms anymore? Director M. Night Shyamalan discusses this thought experiment often in interviews: when everyone expects a twist in his movies, when everyone expects him to tick certain boxes, when everyone derides his new material based on past material…how can he keep things fresh and exciting for himself as a director? The answer is simple: he started paying for his films himself. In a recent interview with the Guardian, he states “Maybe it’s the immigrant-Indian-wanting-to-please-everybody thing. There’s something about me that gets triggered by taking a lot of money and then wanting to please the person that gave me that money. That isn’t healthy. So I pay for the movies and…that allows me to take unusual swings, both in the stories that I’m telling and in the way I’m telling them.” 

A bold strategy from a bold filmmaker -- but in 2023, can an M. Night Shyamalan movie still be examined on its own terms when everyone online seems to have an opinion on him? What happens when his new movie becomes mired in online controversy and discussion before it’s even out? Knock At the Cabin had a lot of opinions made about it before it even released, with fans of the book worried about changes made to its story, writers online boycotting Shyamalan for not openly crediting the book’s author in the movie’s posters, and a slew of film fans ready to deride it based on Shymalan’s previous film, 2021’s widely-panned Old. (Also an adaptation.) Many people even got upset about the title, with the book’s dramatic and operatic “The Cabin At the End of the World” being cut down to the short, creepy, and succinct “Knock At the Cabin”. When everyone is ready to attack a film before anyone’s even seen it, how can one view it without some kind of bias or preconceived notion? 

So…let’s try something. Can Shyamalan, who often plays with genre expectations and loads his films with blunt religious motifs and themes, even begin to tackle the book’s ambiguity and nuance with the kind of precision it needs? Let’s not worry about that. Let’s have a thought experiment: let’s pretend no one knew about this movie and it has just dropped as a surprise release online. Let’s pretend we’ve never seen a Shyamalan film before, and haven’t read the (admittedly excellent) book this film is based on. With the enormous weight of expectations off the film’s back, is it…good? Does it stand on its own two feet? 

Shot in the middle of the pandemic and cleverly skirting most covid shooting limitations by using a limited cast and mostly one location, Knock At the Cabin, I am relieved to say, is a gem of a movie. Shyamalan, as a minority director who has self-funded his films for nearly a decade now, is nothing short of an inspiration for this film-loving nerd, and Knock is a breath of fresh air for this viewer. Playing out like an extended stage play in the Twilight Zone, the film is a tense, taut thriller, the kind we rarely see anymore. In the age of blockbusters and sequels, this one feels special. By spending his own money on the film, Shyamalan is under no producers’ expectations to gas the story up with pointless action or setpieces, instead choosing to let scenes breathe, the film becoming a series of increasingly-tense, dialogue-based debates and questions. 

The plot kicks in instantly, the audience given almost no time to settle in before the creepiness begins. A family consisting of two fathers (Eric and Andrew) and one adopted daughter (Wen) are approached by four strangers at their isolated cabin in the woods and faced with a dilemma: none of them can leave until a member of the family sacrifices one of their own. Why? To save the entire world. An unknown clock begins ticking as the four strangers, who cannot make the sacrifice themselves, desperately try to convince the family that the choice must be made, lest everyone else in the world die an apocalyptic death. They can’t really prove it though, the husbands have to just kinda take their word for it. We see news footage of the apocalyptic events starting, but surely it’s fake news, right? CGI? This has to all be a prank, right? 

It’s a plot worthy of Serling himself. Shyamalan, rewriting a script by Steve Desmond & Michael Shermon, (based on the book by Paul Tremblay), adds in his own unique touches throughout -- the religious motifs he uses often return; cameras get up close in actors’ faces and tilt in odd dutch angles; clever yet subtle editing is used to maximum effect in ratcheting up the tension. You start to feel like you’re watching a fever dream. The 35mm cinematography uses a shallow depth of field to keep everything close to the lens in extreme focus, while the rest of the world seems to melt away into the hazy background. 

With most of the film taking place in the titular cabin, the bulk of our entertainment comes from our stellar cast. Dave Bautista is hypnotic, any shreds of his former wrestling persona long-gone. He turns in a great performance as an elementary teacher (!!) forced to ask a family to do the impossible, with the rest of the cast keeping up with performances all worthy of acclaim. Kirsten Cui stuns as the lovable, grasshopper-catching Wen; Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldrige never fall into gay stereotypes and instead imbue our leads with stern, resigned weariness. Even Rupert Grint, long known for playing the comedic and affable Ron Weasley in the Harry Potter films, makes the most of a small role with a dark, moody performance, the kind we’ve rarely seen from him. Shyamalan and his cast are taking the material as seriously as possible, and it works wonders without ever leaning so hard into self-seriousness that it becomes parody. There is much to be said about comparing this film’s tone to previous Shyamalan films, but we said we’re not gonna do that here. On its own merits, the film holds its tone for the entire movie, slowly notching up the tension as each minute passes. The film builds and builds until an ending that will divide, but asks big, scary questions about God and free will and grief. 

Asked by an online user about what scares him the most in the same Guardian interview, Shyamalan states “Ideating on how to keep my family safe. Those fears in any form…Not being a good dad or a good husband. So it’s always about the fragility of the family.” You get the sense that, whether using gay leads or not, he’s channeling a universal truth here. Every parent wants to protect their family. But could you do so knowing you’d sacrifice everyone else in the process? You can feel Shyamalan wrestling with the question in the film itself, and the added layer of a very-much-non-nuclear family imbues the film with additional subtext rarely seen in genre material. Why should Eric and Andrew sacrifice one of each other or their daughter for the world when so many in said world wouldn’t hesitate to kill them simply for their choice of lifestyle? “We don’t have a homophobic bone in our bodies,” one of the four strangers states, trying to reiterate to our leads that they are not there to kill anyone because Eric and Andrew are gay. The audience hears the line, but begins to wonder “well…are you sure?” 

Go see this movie. Go into it even if you hated The Last Airbender or thought Old was ridiculous or think this director peaked 25 years ago. Give it a fair shake, and maybe if you like it you can check out the book too. As genre fans, adaptations of great original ideas like this one grow increasingly rare, and Shyamalan pulls it off with aplomb. Though book fans may find themselves frustrated with changes to the ending, if you go into this with an open mind, you just may find you share Shyamalan’s fears too.

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Infinity Pool

Guided by a seductive and mysterious woman, a couple on vacation venture outside the resort grounds and find themselves in a culture filled with violence, hedonism and untold horror. A tragic accident soon leaves them facing a zero tolerance policy for crime: either you'll be executed, or, if you're rich enough to afford it, you can watch yourself die instead.

Release date: 24 March 2023 (UK)
Director: Brandon Cronenberg
Screenplay: Brandon Cronenberg

A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

Brandon Cronenberg + Mia Goth + Alexander Skarsgård … for a very specific set of people, the sum there is hell yes.

Riding my favorite wave in horror – that rich people are unspeakably diabolical – writer/director Cronenberg takes us on a strange journey through privilege, debauchery, entitlement, boredom, narcissism, psychotropic drugs and more in his trippy new flick, Infinity Pool.

Skarsgård is James Foster, a writer of very little renown who’s vacationing on a fictional island nation with his wealthy wife (Cleopatra Coleman). They’re bored, but as luck would have it, James’s number one fan Gabi (Goth) and her husband have vowed to show them a good time.

Cronenberg’s ultimate concept is clearly, wildly his own, but moments sometimes call to mind ideas from last year’s Speak No Evil, as well as Society, Kill List, Hour of the Wolf, and A Serbian Film (no, not that part). Still, the film never feels borrowed. Uncomfortable, yes. Borrowed? No.

James represents the regular Joe – yes, a very good-looking version, but regular, nonetheless. And no matter how long he plays the part, he’s an outsider. The truly wealthy are alien. Beyond the sci-fi insanity, beyond the outright body horror, this is the most horrific element of the film because feels honest. It touches a nerve.

In 2020, Jeff Bezos racked up more than 16k in parking tickets. Because, why not? He wanted to park there. Once you reach a certain tax bracket – which is the one where you pay no taxes at all – no rules apply. And that does not create better people.  

It’s fascinating and refreshing, this particular approach to the story. These particular villains. And Goth proves once again to be a seductive menace and a force to be reckoned with.

There are certain scenes in this – one in a group holding cell at the island prison, for instance – that are as insightful, impressive and memorably horrific as anything any Cronenberg has filmed.

It’s hard to believe this is only Brandon Cronenberg’s third feature. It does not pack the visceral punch of 2020’s Possessor, but it is a satisfyingly surreal piece of class warfare and an outstanding way for the genre to kick off 2023.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.

The Devil to Pay

After the disappearance of her husband, a struggling mother fights to save her son from the cold-hearted matriarch of a family.
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Initial release: 7 April 2019
Director: Ruckus Skye
Distributed by: Dark Star Pictures

A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

I’ve long felt that pre-film text-on-screen quotes are a cinematic crutch, often pretentious musings that rarely capture the essence of the film about to unspool.
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Then, over a colorful vista of misty Appalachian mountaintops and plaintive banjo strings I read about the hardy folk populating those peaks, the descendants of criminals and oppressed alike who sought refuge in this inhospitable place.
As shadow creeps across the landscape, the quote:

“They want nothing from you and God help you if you try to interfere.” – 2010 census worker

Welcome to The Devil to Pay, Lane and Ruckus Skye’s lyrical backwoods epic, grounded in a lived-in world most of us never knew existed.

The tale is anchored with a quietly ferocious turn by Danielle Deadwyler (who also produces) as Lemon, a hardscrabble farmer trying to keep things up and wondering where her husband has been these past days.

Deadwyler’s clear-eyed efficiency is matched with the hillbilly condescension of one Tommy Runion (Catherine Dyer, flawless), whose homespun advice and cheer mask a dead-eyed, sadistic sense of right, wrong and entitlement.

One of the most tightly written thrillers in recent memory, The Devil to Pay peoples those hills with true characters, not a forgettable villain or cliched rube among them. The sense of danger is palpable and Deadwyler’s commitment to communicating Lemon’s low-key tenacity is a thing of beauty.

Hell, the whole film is beautiful, Sherman Johnson’s camera catching not just the forbidding nature of Appalachia, but also its lush glory.

Yes, the cult that lives just outside the county line does feel a tad convenient, but again, the Skyes and their outstanding cast carve out memorable, realistic and terrifying characters.

The Devil to Pay remains true to these fascinating souls, reveling in the well-worn but idiosyncratic nature of their individual relationships—a tone matched by sly performances across the board. And just when you think you’ve settled into a scene or a relationship, The Devil to Pay shocks you with a turn of events that is equal parts surprising and inevitable.

It’s a stunning film and a rare gem that treats Appalachians, not as clichés, but certainly not as people to be messed with.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.

Alive (2022)

Helen navigates a ravaged world with her boyfriend Kevin and her little brother Barney. Desperate to find help after Barney's infection slowly turns him into a zombie, they come upon a house where lives Dan, a man harboring a heavy secret. (IMDB)
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Written and directed by David Marantz

Beware, some minor spoilers ahead.


Okay, so let’s address the elephant in the room before we get stuck in to ALIVE. Was this the best Zombie film I have ever seen?

No.

Was it the worst?

Definitely not.

But it is very much a low budget effort and this shows in the quality of the finished product. It doesn’t quite have the same sheen as a higher budget production and the acting and dialogue can sometimes feel a little stilted. The action scenes aren’t as dynamic as others I have seen and there is a definite lack of gore for a zombie flick.


However, ALIVE’s strength lies in knowing all this already. It doesn’t need me to tell you that, it knows it is low budget and the editing and direction, while having a few fumbles, works really well to make the most out of the low budget and the constraints that these impose on the finished product.

ALIVE is another low-budget horror from a team that promises a lot more to come and, while I may have wavered a little at the start of the film, I was soon invested in the story and drawn through to the end and had fun along the way.


The story won’t be anything new to anyone who has even a passing knowledge of Zombie films.

Helen (Ellen Hillman) and Kevin (Kian Pritchard) are travelling through a Zombie-infested countryside with their teacher Miss Horton (Simone McIntyre) and Helen’s brother, Barney (Daniel May-Gohrey). Barney is infected but has not yet turned full Zombie, and the group are following a GPS to get them to an island where there is no infestation and a hope for a cure.

Separated from Miss Horton, the trio break into a cottage for shelter, only to find it inhabited by Dan (Neil Sheffield) a lone man surviving with a secret hidden in his attic.


A trip to the local school to find power for their GPS puts them all in the path of a crazy priest and his congregation who are also searching for as sanctuary, but one with slightly more sinister intentions for Helen.

So follows a cat and mouse chase and fight for survival between our heroes, the crazy church people and the Zombies.

So far, so 28 Days Later.

ALIVE covers a lot of the tropes we would expect in a Zombie movie, with disparate groups of people fighting for survival, infected people hoping to be saved, mysterious radio broadcasts promising sanctuary, crazy religious fanatics, and zombie-bitten limbs being severed by their desperate owners.
It’s all there.

Take Back the Night

A woman finds herself the victim of a violent monster attack, and launches a campaign to track down the beast. However, her past history of drug abuse and mental illness causes everyone to question her story.
Director: Gia Elliot
Executive producers: Marcus Dunstan, Tony Sgro
Producers: Emma Fitzpatrick, Gia Elliot, Kwanza Gooden

A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

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It’s a story we all know too well, some of us better than others.

With their monster movie/social justice thriller Take Back the Night, co-writer/director Gia Elliot and co-writer/star Emma Fitzpatrick spin a pointed tale about a specific character. But the universality of this monstrous situation is never in question. There is only one character with a name, and that name is Jane Doe.
This could be anybody.

Jane has a lot to drink because she is celebrating. This is a big day. But something horrific is about to squeeze out any memory of the joy of this day as she finds herself alone in an alley with a malignant force.

What sets Take Back the Night apart from other similar films is that the attack itself is not the point. Neither is the attacker. Rather, Elliot and Fitzpatrick smack you with the trauma of surviving what comes next.

Jane submits to tests and procedures, swabs and scrapes, photos and questions — all of it tough to witness — with the resigned belief that this humiliation and pain will be followed by justice. Or at least a little sympathy.

Instead, of course, she finds judgment, harassment, disbelief and the threat of prosecution.

Interesting as well that men are mainly a non-presence in the film. There’s a brief interlude in the first act, although we barely glimpse the man’s face. Jane is later interviewed by a male police officer, although he’s never seen at all, only heard in voice-over. And then there is the attacker.

What we do see are the women involved: Jane’s sister, the detective on the case, the news reporter. There are friends and fans, a woman at the party. Not one of these women does the right thing.

That’s the focus of Take Back the Night. The actions of men are irrelevant in this world of overcoming the trauma of an attack, the filmmakers seem to say. What will kill you is being abandoned by the people who should know better, who should be able to empathize.

Fitzpatrick’s fiery performance gives the metaphor its heartbeat. Flawed and hostile, her Jane challenges status-quo thinking about how victims should behave, or what makes a woman a victim in the first place. Fitzpatrick delivers something raw and believable, anchoring the fable with realism.

Not every performance is as strong and the film’s microbudget rears its head on more than one occasion. But Take Back the Night and its filmmakers deliver thrills and realizations in equal measure in a memorable feature debut.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.

Legions

A powerful warlock must save his daughter from an evil entity that wants to sacrifice her.
Initial release: 2022
Director: Fabián Forte

​A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

I watch a lot of movies. More than anything, I watch horror movies. Once in a long while, you uncover a little treasure, something that sneaks up on you with a distinct voice and magical storytelling. Such is the case with Fabián Forte’s Legions.

Antonio (Germán de Silva) recounts his life stories to the other residents in the hospital where he’s being held instead of prison. Some people call him a shaman. He prefers to be called a mediator between worlds. It’s that mediation that landed him in the hospital and caused a likely irreparable rift between him and his daughter, Helena (Lorena Vega).

But the blood moon is coming and with it a demon that will use Helena to bring about the apocalypse. To save his daughter, Argentina, and the world, Antonio has to make his daughter believe in him again.

Forte’s film traverses three different time periods and three distinct tones but the filmmaker masterfully blends them one to the next. Each new era has a different color palette and score to emphasize the change in tone, as Antonio’s stature and the respect he receives from those around him and from his daughter diminish. Finally, with a fully comedic tenor, Antonio finds himself quarantined in his old age.

In this way, Legions bears a passing resemblance to Don Coscarelli’s amazing Bubba Ho-Tep, though the humor at the expense of residents is sometimes patronizing. Still, by having patients mount a stage production of Antonio’s tales strengthens the thread connecting truth and fiction, real-life horror and entertainment, and day-to-day cynicism with faith.

Forte channels not just Coscarelli but, and far more obviously, Sam Raimi. Still, the film feels entirely its own, partly because it glides through different sub-genres so smoothly, and partly because it wears its heart on its sleeve.
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At its core, Legions is a fantasy about regaining the respect of your adult children, and because of that, it’s both relatable and touching.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.

There’s Something Wrong with the Children

​Margaret and Ben take a weekend trip with two longtime friends and their two young children. Ben soon suspects something sinister is afoot when the kids start behaving strangely after disappearing into the woods overnight.
Initial release: 17 January 2023
Director: Roxanne Benjamin
Distributed by: Paramount Home Entertainment

A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

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There are things about There’s Something Wrong with the Children that feel familiar. It’s a cabin-in-the-woods horror film, sure, but director Roxanne Benjamin complicates those tiresome tropes because the forest partiers are a little older than your typical co-eds.

The film drops us somewhere near the end of the first night of vacation. Ben (Zach Gilford) and Margo (Alisha Wainwright) are spending the weekend in adjoining cabins with Margo’s best friend, Ellie (Amanda Crew), and her husband and two kids.

There’s a camaraderie as well as a distance among all partiers that feels authentic. Ellie drinks a great deal for a parent whose kids are on-hand. Ben seems more comfortable playing nerdy forest games with the kids than he does hanging out with the adults. Ellie’s husband Thomas (Carlos Santos) is clearly upset with his wife about something.

The kids seem fine.

And then Ben drags everyone on a forest hike that requires a machete to complete. They stumble upon a ruin with a deep, deep well. Everybody gets a little weird, the children’s noses spontaneously bleed, and the campers decide to retire to their cabins.

The kids – as you might predict from the title – are no longer fine.

The entire cast is solid. Even when the film wades into too-familiar territory, the actors elevate the material with realistic and reasonable performances. Both David Mattie and Briella Guiza as the children in question evolve beautifully from precocious youngsters to something terrifying yet still playful.

I appreciate the way Benjamin dwells in that fun-and-games space where adults do childish things, where dangerous behavior can masquerade as playfulness. She draws you into a supernatural world that feels whisper close to reality.

The most intriguing thing about this film is its stance on motherhood. As much as I enjoyed M3GAN, its mom-shaming got to me. Horror (and not only horror) has a terrible habit of developing storylines meant to prove to women that they do, indeed, have a maternal instinct. And woe be to those women who simply do not.

Benjamin, focusing a script by T.J. Cimfel and David White, instead explores the tension involved in simply owning your own decision not to become a mother. Indeed, There’s Something Wrong with the Children wholly approves of this choice. Makes a great case for it, even.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.

A couple escape their urban nightmare to the tranquility of rural Ireland, only to hear stories of mysterious creatures who live in the gnarled, ancient woods at the foot of their garden. As warned by their new neighbors, the creatures come when called to help souls in dire need of rescue, but it's crucial to remember that there's always a dear price to pay for their aid.

Release date: 27 January 2023 (UK)
Director: Jon Wright
Written by Mark Stay 

#UnwelcomeMovie

Candy Land

A seemingly naïve and devout young woman finds her way in the underground world of truck stop sex workers.
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Release date: 6 January 2023 
Director: John Swab
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A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

Candy Land is a surprise, and it’s not for everyone. This is grim stuff, but writer/director John Swab’s truck stop horror also delivers an unusual story hiding inside some same old, same old.

Remy (Olivia Luccardi) catches the eye of Sadie (Sam Quartin), one of the “lot lizards” selling their carnal wares at a bible belt truck stop. Remy’s part of a religious group here to help Sadie, Riley (Eden Brolin), Liv (Virginia Rand) and Levi (Owen Campbell) find salvation. Instead, Remy – cast out from the cult – finds Sadie, eventually deciding to learn the trade in exchange for a place to live.

Hard-right evangelicals rarely make a positive impression in a horror movie, and sex workers tend to become either heart-tugging martyrs or naked corpses (often both). To his credit, Swab has something else in mind, and while you would not call it pleasant, it’s almost refreshing.

Candy Land avoids preachiness, finding depth and humanity without condescension, both for the evangelicals and the lot lizards. There’s a sense of camaraderie among those on the job, and the naturalistic, terribly human performances sell that.

Campbell (X, My Heart Can’t Beat Unless You Tell It To), in particular, shines with a turn so full of tenderness, playfulness and optimism that you hold your breath every time he’s onscreen- lest something awful happens to him.

It does. In fact, at the risk of spoiling anything but in favor of helping viewers avoid triggers, Campbell’s Levi is subjected to an especially brutal and troubling rape sequence that’s part and parcel of a film loaded with graphic sexuality and violence, often side by side. But never once is the victimization filmed to titillate, if that helps.

For its many successes, the film often feels like a rather superficial exercise in brutality if only because none of the characters have real arcs. Things end for each character essentially where they began. A provocative but undercooked B-story involving a perversely paternal police officer (William Baldwin, with his most interesting performance in years) doesn’t help.
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Candy Land is a tough film to recommend for a number of reasons, but it’s worthwhile viewing if only because Swab upends every expectation, instead taking us inside a horror grounded in something surprisingly human.

Hope Madden is a writer and award-winning filmmaker living with her husband George and cat Velma in Columbus, Ohio. She writes what scares her, which worked out fine until she became a filmmaker and had to live what scared her for the duration of a shoot. Terrible decision. Her novella, Roost, was published in 2022 by Off Limits Press and her first feature film releases in late 2022.