Buckethead rocks out in the Garden of Earthly Delights.
CONTENT WARNING: Boschian gore.

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.
DIRECTED BY: Nicolas Winding Refn
FEATURING: Sophie Thatcher, Havana Rose Liu, Kristine Froseth, Charles Melton, Dougray Scott, Diego Calva
PLOT: It’s Elle’s birthday, and her father is heading out of town, leaving her in the company of her BFF-turned-step-mother and a beautiful new “sister,” as a sinister fog heralds the arrival of The Leather Man.

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: Refn doesn’t waste our time with nonsense like clarity. Space encounters with Candy Flux ray-guns, mega-crystal caverns, rent rib cages, and daddy issues laid on as thick as the ambient mist is all we need to get by in this surreal fairytale.
COMMENTS: It’s kind of a chamber drama, with a cast of six. Plus two. Plus some flashback goons. And it all takes place in the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel. Except, of course, those bits on a movie set. And that violent string in post-WWII occupied Japan. And, now that I think of it, that club consisting primarily of sharp shadows, strobing neon, and dozens and dozens of Romanesque statues. Oh, and that nebulous underworld with the jutting rods of serrated crystal, too. And Refn’s exploration of a lachrymose psyche would have been incomplete without the pair of seamstress-cum-manitous manipulating events, one of them maneuvering like an interpretive dancer.
Suffice to say, the story is one of remorse, grief, sibling rivalry, and just about everyone being very attractive and dressed in the highest of bleak-chic.
This last bit is true, at least for the trio-plus-two of the female protagonists. The fellows look more along the lines of middle-aged Harry Dean Stanton (Elle’s father, Johnny Thunders), young Harry Dean Stanton (Nico, adversary of said father), and violently clean-cut angel of vengeance in a US army uniform (Private “K,” also a father, who’s lost his daughter to a mythical murderer who manifests mainly with diamond-studded gloves and seems unbound by temporal limitations). Regardless, these half-dozen orphic oddities keep events moving forward, from the lobby to the suite to the sinister backrooms of 1940s Japan to the candy crystal caves.
This disjointed recollection of the characters and events is, upon consideration, probably more true to a narrative through line than I credit. Her Private Hell is very much about Elle: she is the first character we see, aside from the truly bizarre cityscape with towers, lights, a massive Ozymandiosian bust, and fog, fog, fog, which is a character in its own right. The hotel (named, I believe, “Fog Tower” or something like that) is a grim-glittery wonderment, as if David Lynch gave Francis Ford Coppola‘s Megalopolis a good once over. The props for the movie within the movie look like the best low budget doo-dads a groovy ’60s space epic could ask for. And while Elle’s birthday cake looks delicious, I’m not sure how we’re supposed to feel about her former BFF hand-feeding it to the anniversary girl before breaking into dog-speak.
At an early point in the movie, a choice presents itself: ponder deeply about symbolism and implications for clinical understanding of this grisly vision, or turn your brain off and allow scattered mental impulses to soar and bounce amongst the cavalcade of sickly grandeur summoned by this witch’s brew. I opted for the latter, and I believe Refn would approve. As he explained during his introduction, the point of a film is to enjoy it, with all the sex, violence, sickness, and humor that may have been tossed in the cauldron.
WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:
366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.
Discussed in this episode:
Fantasia Film Festival preview:
It’s Giles Edwards‘ favorite time of year, and here are a few of the titles he’ll be looking for at North America’s largest (and weirdest) genre film festival:
Fantasia International Film Festival official site.
Backrooms (2026): Read Gregory J. Smalley’s Apocrypha Candidate review! For those who missed it in theaters, Backrooms is now available for online rental or purchase (usual disclaimer: now at premium pricing, which will come down in the future). Buy (or rent) Backrooms on VOD.
“DEFA Fairy Tale Films”: Four fairy tale movies from East Germany, including Snow White, Little Red Riding Hood, Mother Hulda, Snow White and Rose Red, and The Devils Three Golden Hairs (which, we have been personally assured, is a brain-scorcher). Buy “DEFA Fairy Tale Films”.
Howard the Duck (1986): Read Scott Sentinella’s review. Is the campy 80s flop featuring Marvel’s strangest cigar-smoking duck superhero weird? Decide with this lavish 4K (!) restoration. Buy Howard the Duck.
Super Legend God Hikoza (2022): A giant mecha battles a giant sturgeon bent on destroying Japan. Minoru Kawasaki‘s absurd kaiju spoof quietly arrives in America on Blu-ray. Buy Super Legend God Hikoza.
WHAT’S IN THE PIPELINE:
No guest scheduled for next week’s Pod 366, unless you count Giles Edwards live-on-location in Montreal as he covers the Fantasia festival (above). In written content, Michael Diamades reports on his marathon dance with They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?, Shane Wilson skips The Third Man and jumps right to sequel (kidding) The 4th Man, while Giles will drop updates (and interviews?) from Fantasia as the spirit moves him. Onward and weirdward!
In 2019, A24 briefly released an extended director’s cut of the unexpected horror hit Midsommar to theaters between its regular run and its home video debut. This year, the even more surprising success of the YouTube “liminal horror” adaptation Backrooms—which has, shockingly, become the studio’s highest grossing film of all time—inspired them to take a similar marketing tack. This time around, however, the offering was not a true extended cut, but rather the original theatrical release with a 15-minute bonus short set in the Backrooms universe playing after the credits rolled. In the theater I saw it in, less than half the audience stayed for the bonus film (presumably because they didn’t know it was coming—without researching it, you would not expect the extra content).
You likely missed Backrooms: Everything Must Go Edition in its one-week theatrical run (which is already over). The good news is that, although there was originally some question as to whether this short would be a theatrical exclusive, we now know that it will (soon) appear on director Kane Parsons’ YouTube channel. The other good news for those with Backrooms FOMO is that “Everything Must Go” is as inessential as inessential can be: it chronologically and temporally links the web series to the feature film, but it offers little excitement on its own.
The “Everything Must Go” edition exists only because of Backrooms’ strange journey to theaters. To recap quickly for those out of the loop: it began as a “creepypasta” digital legend about a man who discovers an endless labyrinth of rooms. Other users picked up the story and elaborated on it—most notably, a 16-year old named Kane Parsons, whose original liminal space found-footage “Backrooms” YouTube short picked up 90 million views (and a Weirdcademy Award) before being further expanded into a 24-episode webseries. The series eventually centered around the corporation ASYNC’s exploration of the Backrooms—an endless series of rooms with improbable geometries, surreally anomalous items, and dimly glimpsed monstrous entities. In yet another surprise in this constantly astonishing phenomenon, in 2023 art-house/elevated horror studio A24, fresh off a best picture nomination for Everything Everywhere All at Once, announced that they would sign then 17-year-old Parsons to direct a Backrooms feature film, with the backing of James Wan‘s Atomic Monster productions. Again defying the odds, the Backrooms feature film was a blockbuster.
And thus we come to the present. The purpose of the “Everything Must Go” edition—besides the obvious cash grab—is, as noted, to Continue reading REPORT: BACKROOMS: EVERYTHING MUST GO EDITION (2026) REVEALS TENSION IN THE FRANCHISE
DIRECTED BY: Josh Heaps
FEATURING: Diletta Giuglielmi, Nancy Kimball, Hugo Alexander-Rose, Angelica Kim
PLOT: A film student discovers evidence of a forgotten Italian director and, in the course of making a documentary about him, gradually loses touch with reality.

COMMENTS: Initial reports on City Wide Fever described it variously as a giallo, a giallo tribute, and definitely not a giallo nor a tribute. The film’s strange tone must account for this confusion. IMDB classifies it as a horror comedy; though if there’s humor here, I suspect I’m not interpreting it as the director intended. The script attempts to walk the line between genuinely engaging with giallo tropes and simultaneously condemning them for offending contemporary sensibilities. Whether City Wide Fever is a send-up of the giallo resurgence or an honest homage (or both), it liberally takes from the genre its trademark ambiguity, stylization, and mood.
While wandering around New York City, Sam happens upon a USB drive in a gutter. She takes it home and finds a trove of files relating to Saturnino Barresi, who just happens to have directed a slew of giallo films, one of her favorite genres. Barresi apparently went missing, or stopped making films, under mysterious circumstances in the 1970s. His final film, City Wide Fever, was never completed. Though she’s never heard of him before, nor actually seen any of his movies, Sam decides to track him down and make a documentary about her search (a very film student thing to do, as the movie self-reflexively acknowledges).
Her quest takes her to the home of a creepy film professor, a creepy Times Square porn shop (where Larry Fessenden appears in a brief cameo), and a creepy Gowanus warehouse filled with mannequins (what else?), until she reaches the creepy house of a former giallo actress, before it all culminates in—her mother’s uptown apartment (?). Along the way, a masked knife-wielding killer (who else?) shows up to off Sam’s contacts and friends. Or is she just having nightmares, having succumbed to “the fever”?
The killer wears a variety of masks, many of them knit ski masks in bright colors, similar to Pussy Riot, also recalling masked serial killers from classic horror films. Red and blue lighting appears whenever Sam’s delusions and reality merge or fracture. Despite this, City Wide Fever never gets really weird. Even though Sam may be hallucinating some of the events depicted, they never stray too far from typical giallo violence, and only a few frames are outright surreal.
Perhaps it’s weirdest feature is the portrayal of Sam by two different actors, for reasons that remain unclear; this conceit could use the aid of more character development. All we know about Sam is her obsession with giallo. So, is she an American who imagines herself as Italian due to her fixation? Is she an Italian who imagines herself in the role of the amateur investigator, who is often a foreigner in Italian films? Or is this simply emblematic of the lack of narrative logic that’s repeatedly emphasized as a defining characteristic of these films (or maybe a nod to Buñuel)?
Obviously limited by a low budget, the scenes shot with a cell phone actually look higher quality than the rest, which is shot on video. The documentary aspect of the narrative makes the visuals somewhat excusable. It looks exactly like the type of student film it purports to be.
Similar films from earlier in the century, like The Strange Color of Your Body’s Tears and Berberian Sound Studio, interrogated giallo’s complexities through sophisticated dissections of imagery and sound. For those interested in a very 2020s take on the giallo, City Wide Fever may do the trick, though it really can’t compare to those earlier films. As other reviewers have noted, Guy Maddin‘s producer credit seems to be more an endorsement of Heaps’ directorial potential than anything else. Here’s hoping Heaps gets thrown more money for his next picture, and keeps heading off the beaten path.
WHAT THE CRITICS SAY: