Top 5 Horror Movies Filmed in Chicago (and Where to Find Them)
🩸 Chicago’s streets, museums, and alleys have hosted horror icons from Chucky to Candyman. Here are 5 films shot on location in the Windy City.
Horror Movies Filmed in Chicago That Every Fan Should See
Chicago isn’t just the Windy City—it’s a horror hotbed. From killer dolls on Pine Grove Avenue to serial killers prowling Lower Wacker, our city’s architecture, museums, and back‑alleys have fueled some unforgettable scares. Here’s the definitive ranking of the top five horror films actually filmed in Chicago, complete with Google Maps links, Reddit vibes, and that sweet, sweet city pride.
Top 5 Horror Films Shot on Location in Chicago
Rank | Film | Year | Noteworthy Chicago Locations |
---|---|---|---|
1 | Child’s Play | 1988 |
• Andy’s apartment – 2800 N Pine Grove Ave • Wabash & Van Buren – map • Former Carson Pirie Scott (State St) |
2 | Candyman | 1992/2021 |
• Cabrini-Green Homes – map • Museum of Contemporary Art – 220 E Chicago Ave |
3 | Flatliners | 1990 |
• Museum of Science & Industry – map • Loyola University Chicago – map |
4 | The Relic | 1997 |
• Field Museum of Natural History – 1400 S Lake Shore Dr • Museum Campus & Lakefront |
5 | Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer | 1986 |
• Lower Wacker Drive – map • Apartment exterior – 1801 W North Ave |
1. Child’s Play (1988)
The film that made Chucky a household name. Mostly shot around downtown Chicago, Chucky’s murderous opening chase off Wabash & Van Buren gave Chicagoans a scare—especially those who grew up near those intersections.
🦇 "The mom in Child’s Play worked at Carson Pirie Scott on State Street. Now it’s Target but still has the gothic vibes."
2. Candyman (1992 & 2021)
A Chicago horror icon. Both versions filmed in and around Cabrini‑Green—one of our most infamous neighborhoods—and the 2021 version even premiered at the MCA. Urban legend meets urban architecture.
3. Flatliners (1990)
Medical students toying with near‑death experiences? Sounds like Loyola undergrads. Shot in Chicago’s grandest institutions, Flatliners turned the Museum of Science & Industry and Loyola’s campus into eerie playgrounds of life and death.
4. The Relic (1997)
Let’s be honest: *The Relic* is the worst movie on this list. But the Field Museum? That’s holy ground. Field trips. First dates. Dinosaur bones. Sue the T‑rex. If you can’t get there, watching this film is a shaky stand‑in—but it’s a love letter to one of Chicago’s most iconic institutions.
5. Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)
Stark, grainy, and unsettling. Shot across Chicago with zero glamor and total creep factor. Lower Wacker Drive has never looked more menacing.
Explore Chicago’s Horror Film Legacy
From Cabrini-Green to the Field Museum, these films turn our city into a horror fan’s playground. Which Chicago‑filmed horror movie gave you chills? Sound off in the comments and share this with your fellow movie buffs.
Best Folk Horror Movies Ranked: Reddit’s Top 5 Picks
Dive into the dark heart of folk horror with Reddit's top-ranked films, featuring classics like The Wicker Man, Blood on Satan's Claw, and modern chills from The Witch. Discover your next chilling favorite!
Folk horror films tap into primal fears lurking beneath picturesque rural settings, blending folklore, paganism, and ancient traditions. We dove into passionate Reddit conversations to unearth fan favorites—here are the best folk horror movies ranked by the community. Join us on a chilling journey through fields, forests, and forgotten rites.
Top 5 Folk Horror Movies Ranked
Rank | Film | Era | Noteworthy |
---|---|---|---|
1 | The Wicker Man (1973) | Classic | Iconic pagan rituals & performances |
2 | Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971) | Classic | Disturbing rural supernatural terror |
3 | The Witch (2015) | Modern | Historical authenticity & dread |
4 | Witchfinder General (1968) | Classic | Vincent Price’s brutal portrayal |
5 | Midsommar (2019) | Modern | Disturbing daylight horror |
1. The Wicker Man (1973)
Starring horror legend Christopher Lee, The Wicker Man remains the ultimate folk horror experience according to Reddit’s horror enthusiasts.
🦇 “The Wicker Man (1973) – This is the quintessential folk horror film. Absolutely essential viewing.”
u/cultfilmfanatic, r/horror – Folk Horror Essentials, July 12, 2024
2. Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971)
A pillar of British folk horror praised for its eerie rural setting and intense supernatural dread.
🦇 “Blood on Satan’s Claw is atmospheric, unsettling, and the perfect example of countryside horror done right.”
u/horrorhistorian, r/folkhorror – Best British Folk Horror Films, October 22, 2023
3. The Witch (2015)
Robert Eggers masterfully captures historical paranoia, earning a permanent spot in folk horror lore.
🦇 “The Witch truly captures isolated paranoia and spiritual dread that defines great folk horror.”
u/darkforestfilms, r/horror – The Witch and Folk Horror Revival, May 15, 2024
4. Witchfinder General (1968)
Vincent Price delivers a chilling performance as a ruthless witch hunter, solidifying its legendary horror status.
🦇 “Witchfinder General remains brutally impactful. Price delivers one of his finest performances.”
u/vincentpricelover, r/classichorror – Witchfinder General Review, December 1, 2023
5. Midsommar (2019)
A modern folk horror masterpiece celebrated for its unsettling daylight terror and vivid visuals.
🦇 “Midsommar redefined folk horror for a new generation, terrifying in the brightest of daylight.”
u/modernhorrorcritic, r/horrorreviews – Midsommar: Folk Horror Rebirth, June 5, 2024
Explore More Folk Horror!
These Reddit-ranked films offer deep dives into rural terror and haunting folklore. Did we miss your favorite folk horror movie? Comment below, or check out our exclusive Wicker Man shirts to celebrate your love of classic folk horror!
How Night of the Living Dead (1968) Tricked Us Into Loving Its Most Dangerous Character
George A. Romero’s 1968 horror classic Night of the Living Dead has been dissected for decades, lionized for its groundbreaking zombie lore and its casting of Duane Jones as Ben, the genre’s first Black protagonist. But on this rewatch, I found myself stuck on something uncomfortable: Ben is the reason everyone dies. Yes, including himself. That isn’t a flippant hot take—it’s a serious reconsideration of the film’s dynamics and character decisions, especially when we peel back the layers of how this character came to be.
George A. Romero’s 1968 horror classic Night of the Living Dead has been dissected for decades, lionized for its groundbreaking zombie lore and its casting of Duane Jones as Ben, the genre’s first Black protagonist. But on this rewatch, I found myself stuck on something uncomfortable: Ben is the reason everyone dies. Yes, including himself. That isn’t a flippant hot take—it’s a serious reconsideration of the film’s dynamics and character decisions, especially when we peel back the layers of how this character came to be.
Duane Jones and the Ben Role: A Groundbreaking Horror Casting in 1968
First, it’s crucial to note that Ben wasn’t written for a Black actor. Romero initially penned the part for his white collaborator Rudy Ricci (no known relation to Christina Ricci). Ricci, who appeared briefly in Dawn of the Dead and Night of the Living Dead, was the archetypal rough-and-tumble, possibly uneducated, truck driver.
That original version of Ben—an impulsive, blue-collar survivor—wasn’t rewritten when Duane Jones was cast. At least, not on paper. Romero claimed Jones was simply the best actor who auditioned, and that the script remained unchanged. But this is where the white lie creeps in: Jones was allowed to revise his own dialogue. That matters. Because while the lines changed, the character’s impulsive decision-making did not.
Ben vs. Harry: The Conflict That Doomed the Farmhouse
Ben is often framed as the film’s moral center, the guy who saves Barbara, keeps the group moving, and tries to protect the house. But we give him a pass for a lot of impulsive, emotionally driven decisions. His feud with Harry Cooper, the irritable patriarch hiding with his wife and infected daughter in the basement, is especially telling.
Sure, Harry sucks—controlling, defensive, often self-serving. But as my marriage counselor says: it takes two people to argue. Ben doesn’t de-escalate. He escalates. From the moment Harry and the others emerge from the basement, Ben is hostile. No benefit of the doubt. He mocks their decision to hide, declares himself “the boss upstairs,” and reinforces a divisive dynamic that never heals.
Yes, Harry is insufferable. But he’s also a father with a sick child. His motivations—while flawed—stem from fear for his family, not selfishness alone. And what’s wild is that, by the end, Harry was right about the basement.
Romero Zombie Rules and the Noise That Kills
Ben’s instincts to board up the house make sense on paper—secure the ground floor, fend off zombies. But in execution? He makes a ton of noise. Hammering, dragging furniture, breaking things. All that racket likely attracted more zombies to the location.
This detail matters because the zombies are shown using tools early on—they bust car headlights with bricks, wield weapons to break into the farmhouse. They respond to light and sound. In Romero’s later film Land of the Dead, fireworks are used to distract them. So Ben’s DIY fortress, which impresses no one and doesn’t hold, arguably drew the monsters in faster.
Ben’s Fatal Gas Pump Plan: Breaking Down a Romero Horror Misstep
Let’s talk about the infamous gas pump scene. The plan is: Ben and Tom will drive to the gas pump to refuel the truck, using fire (via Molotov cocktails) to clear a path, and come back for the group. Sounds good until Judy—against everyone’s advice—leaps into the truck last minute. Then Ben takes a literal flaming stick next to a gas pump. Brilliant.
When they realize they have the wrong key, Ben shoots the lock off the pump. Yes, he shoots a gas pump. Instead of exploding (as it would in the Tom Savini remake), the lock simply falls off. But then Tom pulls the hose and gas sprays everywhere. Predictably, the truck catches fire. They try to drive it away, Judy’s jacket gets stuck, Tom goes back—boom. Dead.
This entire sequence is Ben’s plan. His flame torch, his reckless shooting, his leadership. It kills two people. There’s no way around that.
Breakdown of the Group and the Power of Misjudgment
Ben returns to the house, only to find Harry has locked him out. Still, Harry does make a move to open the door just as Ben kicks it in. It’s one of those beautifully ambiguous Romero moments—is Harry redeeming himself? Was it too late anyway?
Ben gets inside, beats the hell out of Harry, and the house begins to fall apart. The zombies breach. Barbara is pulled out by her zombified brother in one of the film’s creepiest scenes. Harry tries to take the gun. Helen is killed by her reanimated daughter in the basement. Eventually, Ben shoots Harry and heads into the cellar—the one place he swore never to go.
Ben in the Basement: Survival by Eating Crow
Ben boards up the cellar door—just as Harry said he should have. Turns out, it’s incredibly secure. He survives the night down there, completely untouched. If they had all stayed in the basement quietly, they’d have likely lived. Of course, the wild card would have been Karen (the bitten daughter) reanimating. But even then, it’s one problem, not a full-on siege.
Instead, what we got was noise, fire, conflict, and destruction—most of it sparked or escalated by Ben.
A Pointless Death, A Powerful Romero Ending
Come morning, Ben hears gunfire and sirens. The posse arrives, clearing out zombies. Ben peeks out—gun still in hand—and is mistaken for a ghoul. He’s shot and thrown onto the burning pile. It’s one of the greatest endings in horror history. The sheer gut punch of it. But narratively? Totally avoidable.
Alternate Endings and the Legacy of Ben in Night of the Living Dead: Hero or Horror Villain?
What if Ben and Barbara had just gone to the basement? What if Ben had defused tension with Harry instead of escalating it? What if he hadn’t tried to light a truck on fire while standing next to a gas pump?
There’s a fascinating alternate version of this story—glimpsed in the 1990 remake—where Harry’s fatherly instincts make him a sympathetic character. In that version, Ben dies in the basement, reanimates, and is mercy-killed. It explores similar dynamics but sharpens the emotional realism.
Duane Jones, Romero, and the Horror of Human Nature
None of this diminishes Duane Jones’s performance. He’s phenomenal. His casting matters. In 1968, at the height of the civil rights movement, Romero chose the best actor for the part—and he happened to be Black. That matters. It was a meaningful, radical decision.
But we do the character—and the film—a disservice by glossing over the actual story. The truth is, Ben was a good man who made terrible decisions. And those decisions killed everyone. The brilliance of Night of the Living Dead lies not just in its casting, but in how it portrays survival: messy, emotional, ego-driven, and tragic.
Night of the Living Dead (1968) Movie Review: We Need to Talk About Ben
We, as horror fans, have held up Duane Jones’ performance for good reason—and we should. His casting was a seismic shift. But that seismic shift came with a character who, when you actually pay attention, makes a series of terrible, stubborn, emotion-fueled decisions that arguably gets every farmhouse character killed.
Official Movie URL: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063350/
Rating: 10 (on a review scale: 1 being worst, 10 being best)
Cast & Crew
Directed by: George A. Romero
Duane Jones as Ben, Judith O'Dea as Barbara, Karl Hardman as Harry Cooper — Romero directs with gritty confidence, pioneering a genre-defining vision that would outlive its budget and humble origins.
Ben Was Right... Until He Wasn't
Let’s get this out of the way: Night of the Living Dead doesn’t need another glowing review. It’s iconic. It’s required viewing. It’s horror canon. So, yeah—10/10. But this isn’t just a pat on the back. This is about Ben.
We, as horror fans, have held up Duane Jones’ performance for good reason—and we should. His casting was a seismic shift. But that seismic shift came with a character who, when you actually pay attention, makes a series of terrible, stubborn, emotion-fueled decisions that arguably gets every farmhouse character killed.
Ben as originally written, was a rough, uneducated truck driver to be played by Romero collaborator Rudy Ricci. Romero cast Jones simply because he was the best actor who auditioned. He didn't rewrite the script to suit a more refined persona, but he did allow Jones to adjust the dialogue—effectively transforming Ben into a more articulate and composed presence.
And yet... even with the upgraded dialogue, Ben's behavior remains chaotic at best, selfish at worst. He argues against Harry Cooper's cellar plan—a plan that, in the end, saves Ben's life. He insists on boarding up the house using loud tools and flimsy interior barricades, drawing more zombies than they started with. Then there's the moment he brings a flaming baluster on a mission to fill the truck's gas tank—yes, fire keeps the zombies at bay, but tossing it near the pump is about as boneheaded as it gets. And while that same baluster ends up later in a zombie’s hands during the final breach, it’s Ben’s consistent chain of short-sighted choices that leads to disaster. He picks fights at every opportunity, culminating in some fatal decisions under pressure.
The Case for Harry Cooper
Harry Cooper is framed as a jerk from the jump—and yeah, he’s not exactly charming. He’s controlling, panicked, and verbally cold to his wife. But here’s the thing: he’s also right.
Harry’s plan is to keep everyone in the basement, stay quiet, and wait it out. From a survival standpoint, it’s solid. The zombies don’t get into the cellar. The cellar ends up being the safest place in the house—confirmed when Ben, beaten down and alone, locks himself in there to survive the night. Yet Ben spends most of the movie actively undermining Harry, punching him, and eventually shooting him in anger after their safety is compromised.
Worse yet, Ben’s string of choices escalates further during the infamous gas pump scene. When they realize they don’t have the right keys, Ben decides the best course of action is to shoot the chain off the lock. That’s already a dangerously dumb move, and it’s something the 1990 remake actually leans into—Tom Savini directs that version, and in it, the act of shooting the lock causes an immediate explosion, as it probably should have here. But in the '68 version, Ben somehow survives it. Then, in a wild second act of tempting fate, Ben tosses a flaming baluster directly beneath the truck’s gas tank inlet. And if that weren’t enough, Tom (clearly in panic mode) begins spraying gasoline long before he actually reaches the truck. The combination of an open flame, premature gas spray, and raw terror seals the deal. Tom and Judy drive off in a panic and explode moments later. It’s a mess of decisions (and now body parts), none of which point to Ben being the tactical genius we've built him up to be over the decades.
After returning to the farmhouse, Ben demands Harry help seal the door, only to beat him senseless afterward. As the zombies breach the barricades using tools—including the same baluster Ben had discarded—Ben throws a plank of wood at Harry during the chaos, knocks the rifle from his hands, grabs it, and shoots him. Harry falls into the cellar alive, only to be killed by his now-zombified daughter. Everyone else dies shortly after in horrific, preventable ways.
The only wildcard in this entire debate is Karen. Had the group agreed to ride out the night in the cellar as Harry proposed, there’s no telling how things might’ve unfolded once Karen inevitably turned. In the 1968 version, we see her kill both her mother and father before Ben finally takes shelter in the cellar and kills the zombified Karen and Helen to survive the night. It’s a brutal twist, but it also leaves that unanswered question—how would a group of survivors have responded to a child turning undead in such close quarters? The Walking Dead explored a similar dilemma in Season 4, where the Governor keeps his zombified daughter hidden and fed. Tom Savini’s 1990 remake leans in even further: Helen is murdered by their now-renamed daughter Sarah, who then emerges from the cellar. Ben—played by the late, great Tony Todd—dispatches her with a single, mournful shot to the head. When Harry, played masterfully by Chicago’s Tom Towles, reacts in horror and shoots Ben, the resulting gunfight actually makes more sense than the abrupt conflict of the original. In that version, Ben’s stoicism proves his undoing—not his rage. And while it changes the tone, it’s arguably a more logical chain of events.
What Worked Well
This movie still rules. Full stop.
Duane Jones doesn’t just play Ben—he elevates him. He takes a character written with vague, underbaked working-class grit and injects him with authority, tension, and humanity. His very presence disrupted the norms of who could be the hero in a time of civil unrest and racial violence in America. His calm resolve, even when the script sets him up to fail, adds a weight and dignity that makes the film impossible to imagine without him.
Romero’s choice to film in black and white, mostly for budget reasons, ends up being one of its most defining strengths. The harsh shadows and grainy texture deliver a masterclass in chiaroscuro. This contrast between light and dark doesn’t just set the mood—it builds the genre. It’s why people still look to this movie as the blueprint for zombie horror.
And the ending? Devastating. Brilliant. Inevitable. That final shot stays with you, especially once you realize Ben did everything "right"—and still died. That’s Romero’s gut punch. That’s America in 1968.
The Bitterest Pill
It’s hard to critique a movie this groundbreaking without sounding like you’re nitpicking, but that’s not the point here. Ben’s impact as a character is untouchable. But the decisions he makes within the film are catastrophically bad. What’s fascinating is that this duality doesn’t weaken the movie—it strengthens it. It gives you something to argue about 50 years later.
Ben is a flawed hero. Not flawed like, “Oh, he lied to protect someone.” Flawed like, “He shoots a guy mid-zombie invasion and sets a flaming torch next to a gas tank.” He’s the chaos engine inside a horror machine. And it’s precisely because of that chaos that the ending hits so hard.
So yes, this is a perfect horror movie. And yes, the guy we all celebrate might have accidentally killed everyone.
Keep your coffin cozy and your horror collection cursed—until next time, fiends! ⚰📼
Paul Francis Jones - April 9th 2025
Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person Movie Review: Bloody Beautiful, Bittersweet, and Brilliant (10/10)
Foreign female vampire films have quietly delivered some of the most emotionally resonant horror of the 21st century. Think Let the Right One In or A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night. Now enter Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person—a film that doesn't just stand among those greats, but arguably surpasses them in tenderness, wit, and warmth. Despite the fanged premise, this isn’t about bloodlust—it’s about loneliness, agency, and the unexpected sweetness of connection.
Official Movie URL: https://www.h264distribution.com/en/films/distribution/humanist-vampire-seeking-consenting-suicidal-person/
Rating: 10 (on a review scale: 1 being worst, 10 being best)
Cast & Crew
Directed by: Ariane Louis-Seize
Sara Montpetit of Falcon Lake, Félix-Antoine Bénard in a standout debut, directed by Ariane Louis-Seize in her full-length feature debut.
A Blood Bag Full of Heart: A New Classic in Coming-of-Age Vampire Cinema
Foreign female vampire films have quietly delivered some of the most emotionally resonant horror of the 21st century. Think *Let the Right One In* or *A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night*. Now enter *Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person*—a film that doesn't just stand among those greats, but arguably surpasses them in tenderness, wit, and warmth. Despite the fanged premise, this isn’t about bloodlust—it’s about loneliness, agency, and the unexpected sweetness of connection.
Sasha and Paul: Vinyl, Blood, and Emotional Bandages
It’s hard not to initially compare Sasha (Sara Montpetit) to Eli or The Girl—solitary, introspective vampires drawn to emotionally wounded boys. But Sasha is different. Her empathetic heart—triggered when humans are in pain—makes feeding nearly impossible. Her family tries to help, but like many well-meaning parents, they're divided: one side enabling, the other pushing for brutal independence. When Sasha is sent to live with her cousin Denise to learn how to hunt, things shift. That’s where she meets Paul (Félix-Antoine Bénard), a suicidal teen whose awkwardness and quiet kindness mirror Sasha’s internal ache. Their relationship, built on mutual darkness, becomes something luminously humane.
What Worked Well
– Sara Montpetit’s performance as Sasha: understated, magnetic
– The humor: Napoleon Dynamite with a splash of blood
– The needle drop, Brenda Lee’s “Emotions” is perfection
– Ariane Louis-Seize’s direction
– The family dynamics are a surprisingly realistic portrait of parental disagreement and teen anxiety
– Félix-Antoine Bénard is funny and likable as Paul, and yet you constantly worry about him. His performance makes you want to, like Sasha, protect him. It’s an affecting, subtle turn that anchors the entire film.
Death, Connection, and the Fear of Being Alone
The film’s emotional core lands hardest in a gut-punch moment: Paul writes a suicide note, believing he's finally found peace through his pact with Sasha. But when his mom unexpectedly returns home and sees him heading out with a friend, she smiles—believing her son is finally starting to thrive. It's a moment that devastates because we know the truth... or do we? Sasha and Paul’s final arc suggests that maybe death isn’t what Paul needed. Maybe it was for someone to see him. As Paul says, “I think people are just afraid of suffering. Or of being alone.”
And that’s what this film gets so painfully right. Underneath the vampire mythos there's a story about two people who don't want to live… until they find each other.
Keep your coffin cozy and your horror collection cursed—until next time, fiends! ⚰️📼
Paul Francis Jones - April 4 2025
Bloody Axe Wound Movie Review: Misleading Cameos and Mixtape Carnage (6/10)
Bloody Axe Wound has a killer concept, a strong lead, and a refreshing setting—but it drops the ball by overhyping its least important character and leaving too many threads dangling. Sari Arambulo proves she can carry a horror film. The irony is that the movie’s own marketing doesn’t trust her to.
Official Movie URL: https://www.ifccenter.com/films/bloody-axe-wound/
Cast & Crew
Directed by: Matthew John Lawrence
Sari Arambulo of AP Bio, Jeffrey Dean Morgan of The Walking Dead and Invincible, Molly Brown of Dexter: Original Sin, Eddie Leavy of AP Bio, and Billy Burke of Twilight and Batman: The Long Halloween.
When I first came across Bloody Axe Wound, it looked like the kind of weird indie horror I’d be into. The concept—a family business built around snuff films and a local video store—sounded deranged in the right way. The cast? Even better. Jeffrey Dean Morgan was front and center in the trailers, and Sari Arambulo (of AP Bio fame) felt like perfect casting for the role of Abbie Bladecut, a teen poised to take over her father’s twisted legacy. With that setup, I was expecting something wild, maybe even unforgettable. What I got was… mostly fine. But the biggest surprise wasn’t the kills or the concept—it was how little the movie trusted its best asset.
The Drew Barrymore Fake-Out, Without the Purpose
When Scream hit theaters in 1996, killing off A-list star Drew Barrymore in the opening minutes was a brilliant move. It told audiences no one was safe. With Bloody Axe Wound, Jeffrey Dean Morgan is used in much the same way—front and center in marketing, trailers, even top billing on physical media. But unlike Scream, Morgan’s character Butch Slater contributes almost nothing to the film. He appears briefly at the beginning, then vanishes entirely. The scene looks cool on the surface, and there’s a faint justification that he's training Abbie Bladecut (Sari Arambulo), but none of that is followed through.
Morgan’s presence feels like a bait-and-switch, which is frustrating because fans of horror and comic book properties genuinely love this guy. The Walking Dead, Supernatural, The Boys, Watchmen, Invincible—he’s built a reputation on charming villainy. So when you find out he’s barely in the film, it’s not just disappointing—it’s misleading. Ironically, just as Abbie’s father claims she can’t carry on the family business because she’s a girl, the film’s marketing suggests Sari Arambulo can’t carry the movie either. But she does. And that makes the decision to lean so heavily on Morgan even more frustrating.
No Signal: Horror Before the Internet Saved Us
The film never says what year it takes place, but it’s easy to peg it as the early ‘90s. There are no mobile phones—not even the brick Nokias. No internet, no texting. Just landlines, payphones, mixtapes, and a run-down VHS rental store doubling as a snuff film dispensary. Some horror fans might argue that the presence of physical media doesn’t necessarily date a film—especially in a world where nostalgia shops like Graveface and The Toy Pit are thriving—but here, it’s more than just aesthetic. It’s the isolation that matters.
Characters can’t Google their way out of danger. No one’s livestreaming attacks. There’s a claustrophobic quality to the Bladecut family’s world, and the pre-digital setting reinforces it. Abbie isn’t just taking on her family’s legacy—she’s doing it in a world where help doesn’t come with a push notification. That’s a big part of what makes the whole “snuff store in town” thing barely plausible, yet oddly fascinating.
What Worked Well
- Sari Arambulo delivers a committed and layered performance as Abbie Bladecut. Equal parts creepy and commanding, she owns every scene.
- The worldbuilding and analog details (VHS, payphones, mixtapes) feel lived-in and well-executed.
- The twisted concept—a family of serial killers renting out their own snuff films—is both original and appropriately grimy.
- Writer/director Matthew John Lawrence keeps his punk-horror aesthetic alive post-Uncle Peckerhead.
Too Much Setup, Not Enough Payoff
Here’s the real kicker: Abbie’s father spots her in a grainy low-budget snuff film playing on an old CRT television because of her green jacket. Yet Sam Crane, Abbie’s love interest—and the same person who nearly kills Abbie during a home invasion earlier in the film—never connects the dots. Abbie wears that jacket throughout the movie. Sam also sees the scar she gave Abbie. Still, nothing clicks. Not until the climax. The film expects us to believe a trauma that intense just… disappears?
It’s a frustrating inconsistency that feels less like suspense and more like oversight. Especially when you’ve got a character like Abbie whose evolution could be emotionally devastating. There’s missed opportunity for tension, conflict, and resolution that would have grounded the otherwise bonkers premise.
Final Cut: A Strong Lead Held Back by Weak Framing
Bloody Axe Wound has a killer concept, a strong lead, and a refreshing setting—but it drops the ball by overhyping its least important character and leaving too many threads dangling. Sari Arambulo proves she can carry a horror film. The irony is that the movie’s own marketing doesn’t trust her to. While the supporting cast fits well and the analog aesthetic is enjoyable, the inconsistent storytelling and baited expectations hold it back. Worth a watch if you’re into bloody weirdness and post-AP Bio psychosis—but manage your expectations.
Keep your coffin cozy and your horror collection cursed—until next time, fiends! ⚰️📼
Paul Francis Jones - March 30th 2025
Longlegs Movie Review: A Satanic Silence of the Lambs? (7.5/10)
When a movie markets itself as “the best serial killer horror film since The Silence of the Lambs,” it sets a high bar. That’s exactly what happened with Longlegs, a film that leans into chilling visuals, a creeping sense of dread, and Nicolas Cage in one of his eeriest roles yet. But does it truly belong in the same conversation as Silence of the Lambs?
Official Movie URL: https://www.longlegs.film/
Cast & Crew
Directed by: Oz Perkins
Starring: Maika Monroe of It Follows, Nicolas Cage of Vampire’s Kiss
Does Longlegs Live Up to Its Own Hype?
When a movie markets itself as “the best serial killer horror film since The Silence of the Lambs,” it sets a high bar. That’s exactly what happened with Longlegs, a film that leans into chilling visuals, a creeping sense of dread, and Nicolas Cage in one of his eeriest roles yet. But does it truly belong in the same conversation as Silence of the Lambs?
Many films have tackled the serial killer genre since 1991, from Se7en and American Psycho to Monster and Frailty. While Longlegs successfully carves out its own identity with a supernatural twist, its execution doesn’t always reach the level of psychological depth that made Silence an enduring classic.
Parallels Between Longlegs and Silence of the Lambs
There’s an undeniable structural similarity between the two films:
- Lee Harker = Clarice Starling
- Longlegs = Buffalo Bill
- William Carter = Jack Crawford
- Satan = Hannibal Lecter
Like Clarice, Lee Harker is methodical, intelligent, and deeply connected to the case she’s working on. Longlegs, like Buffalo Bill, is an elusive yet unsettling figure who taunts law enforcement while committing horrific acts. Meanwhile, the presence of Satan in the film serves a similar function to Hannibal Lecter—an ominous, manipulative force lurking in the background.
However, where Silence of the Lambs excelled was in its layered villain. Buffalo Bill’s backstory unfolds like a puzzle, piece by piece. In contrast, Longlegs leaves much of its titular character shrouded in mystery—perhaps too much so.
The Missed Opportunity With Nicolas Cage
For a film named after its antagonist, Longlegs himself feels underdeveloped. And with Nicolas Cage in the role, that feels like a missed opportunity.
One of the most fascinating things about The Silence of the Lambs is how we slowly come to understand Buffalo Bill—his motives, his past, his disturbing worldview. Every scene with him gives us another breadcrumb. Longlegs, on the other hand, gives us almost nothing. He has an unsettling presence, yes. But beyond his surgically altered face and erratic singing, we get no real insight into who he is.
It wasn’t until I read interviews with director Oz Perkins that I even learned Longlegs was supposed to have been a glam rock star who underwent extreme plastic surgery before embracing Satanism. That’s a fascinating backstory—but none of it is actually in the movie.
And this is where I feel Longlegs misses the mark. Nicolas Cage is an actor with incredible range. His performance in Pig is a testament to how powerful he can be when working in restraint. He doesn’t need to go full Cage to be memorable. But he does need material that allows him to create a fully realized character. Longlegs doesn’t give him that.
What Worked Well
- Atmosphere & Cinematography – The film is visually stunning, dripping with eerie, dreamlike dread.
- Maika Monroe’s Performance – She carries the film with a quiet intensity that feels authentic.
- Slow-Burning Terror – The movie never relies on cheap jump scares, instead letting its horror build naturally.
Is Longlegs Worth Watching?
Absolutely. Longlegs is an unsettling, visually arresting film that lingers in your mind long after the credits roll. Oz Perkins has crafted something unique, a horror film that isn’t afraid to take risks. But while it excels in mood and atmosphere, it falls short in fully fleshing out its villain—especially considering it had Nicolas Cage in the role.
Would I recommend it? Yes. Would I put it in the same league as The Silence of the Lambs? Not quite.
⚰️📼 Keep your coffin cozy and your horror collection cursed—until next time, fiends!
Paul Francis Jones - 3/18/2025