366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

Severin Films. 13 disc set.

Severin Films continues their groundbreaking folk-horror “college course in a box” set with the second semester. Expanding and exploring on themes and offering more selections to discover and debate, this time around it has 24 features representing 18 countries, along with tons of extras. Acknowledging the literary roots of the genre, Vol. 2 also comes with a 250 page book, “A Folk Horror Storybook,” a collection of 12 short stories by noted writers in the genre—Ramsey Campbell, Kim Newman, Cassandra Khaw amongst them—with an introduction by Kier-La Janisse, who returns as producer/curator of the whole shebang. The “expansion of themes” may cause some to feel cheated, as there are only a handful of films that fit the expected parameters of “horror” here. But that objection may be more of a failing of the viewer. There are elements of the frightful in all of the selections, and although perhaps  “uncanny” or “spectral” would be better terms, “horror” makes for a good umbrella.

Disc 1 features the UK with a film by writer Sean (“England’s Screaming”) Hogan, To Fire You Come At Last (2023), a knowing homage to BBC shows like “Dead of Night” and “Ghost Stories For Christmas.” Four men carry a coffin to a graveyard along a “corpse road” and encounter dangers: from each other, and from something else. Bonus features include commentary by Hogan and producers, along with an earlier short by Hogan, “We Always Find Ourselves In The Sea,” also with commentary, and a separate featurette on corpse roads.

Paired with To Fire is Psychomania, a 1973 B-movie by Don Sharp involving juvenile delinquent bikers whose leader (Nicky Henson from Witchfinder General) learns the secret of returning from the dead—and promptly does it! He then starts recruiting the other members to follow suit. There’s witchery/devil/frog worship, George Sanders (in his last role), a sappy ballad, and lots of cycle action, making for some fine British cheese. This was a previous Severin release with featurettes about the actors and music, all which have been ported over, along with a new commentary by Hellebore Magazine editor Maria J. Perez Cuervo and a new short documentary on stone circles and standing stones.

Disc 2 focuses on two American features: The Enchanted (1984) with Julius Harris and Larry Miller (acting under the name Will Sennet), directed by Carter Lord, and 1973’s Who Fears The Devil? (AKA The Legend of Hillbilly John), with Hedges Capers and Severn Darden, directed by John Newland. Based on a story by Elizabeth Coatsworth, The Enchanted shifts the location from New England to the south Florida, courtesy of screenwriter Charne Porter. Returning to his home after his father’s death, Royce (Miller), with the help of family friend Booker T (Harris), makes a go at restoring the property. The Perdys, a family of laborers whose eldest daughter, Twyla (Casey Blanton), catches Royce’s eye, help out. But Booker T is aware that the Perdys are much more than they appear. The film is more supernatural fantasy than horror, but it does wring every ounce of atmosphere it can from its backwoods setting: the beauty and awe and dread of the unknown that’s just next door. The Enchanted is presented in a new restoration from the original camera negative, with two commentaries (one with director Lord and camera assistant Richard Grange, one with authors Chesyn Burke and Sheree Renee Thomas), a featurette on composer Phil Sawyer (of the Spencer Davis Group), notes from screenwriter Porter, and a short film, “Swimmer.”

Manly Wade Wellman’s John the Balladeer (also known as Silver John) character headlines Who Fears The Devil? , an anthology which adapts several John stories, including “The Desrick at Yandro” and “O Ugly Bird.” Set in The Appalachians, where the Devil is as real as you or I and can be challenged by those pure of heart with silver in their guitar strings. John is one of those people, taking up the challenge when his grandfather is struck down in a confrontation. Helped from time to time by the mysterious Marduk, John’s travels bring him into conflict with a greedy undertaker, an oversized bird of supernatural origin terrorizing a community, and the residue of the legacy of slavery (a story not based on Wellman, but an original contribution of scriptwriter Melvin Levy). Devil is a product of its time. John isn’t a hippie, but he’s hippie-adjacent. The Devil doesn’t take shape in literal form, but through proxies: the greedy landowners of “Yandro” and “Ugly Bird,” the slave overseer in the third segment, and the Government (somewhat tongue in cheek). In my opinion, this is one of the highlights of the set, as this film (previously announced as a release from by Kino Lorber but pulled at the last minute) finally makes it to Blu-ray under its original title. Television historian Amanda Reyes provides commentary, and there’s an informative interview with producer Barney Rozenzwieg. Also included is an alternate opening with the alternate title; an interview with actor Hedges Capers; author David Drake discussing Manly Wade Wellman; and a featurette with occult historian Mitch Horowitz.

The films on Disc 3 concentrate on indigenous legends from Finland and Canada, respectively: 1952’s The White Reindeer (directed by Erik Blomberg) and 2018’s Edge of the Knife (directed by Gwaai Edenshaw and Helen Haig-Brown). The White Reindeer stars Mirjami Kuosmanen (co-writer and wife of Blomberg) as Pirita, a Sami woman married to a reindeer herder. Feeling stifled in the marriage, she goes to the local shaman for spellcasting which goes wrong, causing her to turn into the titular reindeer at intervals and kill men in a lycanthropic variant with a pre-feminist slant. Lycanthropy of a kind also plays a part in Edge of the Knife. Set in the 1800s in Canada’s Pacific Northwest, Haida Gwaii (AKA the Queen Charlotte Islands), the film begins at a summer gathering of two extended families when tragedy strikes, leaving a boy dead. The person responsible disappears into the woods and is also presumed dead, but instead transforms into the Gaagiixiid (or the Haida Wildman). Knife is based on a classic story of the Haida people and is the first feature film to be shot in the Haida language.

This is the first U.S. release of Reindeer, previously available in Finland, France and the UK. It features a commentary track comprised of an episode of the Projection Booth Podcast hosted by Mike White and with Kat Ellinger, and a Talk Without Rhythm Podcast host El Goro, along with three short films. Edge of the Knife has a commentary by co-directors Edenshaw and Haig-Brown, a behind-the-scenes featurette, and two Haida themed shorts.

Disc 4 heads back to the UK, but from a different perspective, with a single movie. Born of Fire, Pakistani director Jamil Dehlavi’s first English language work, is one of the first Western films to  treat Islamic folklore seriously—specifically, the mythology of the djinn. Paul (Colin Firth), a renowned flautist, has apocalyptic visions. An astronomer (Suzan Crowley) observes solar activity that points towards an impending catastrophic event. They share a mystical connection which leads them to Turkey, where volcanic activity is occurring. Paul, through his music, must learn to control the hidden forces of the Earth by confronting the Master Musician, a djinn.

Wonderful poetic touches occur throughout the film, the most startling being a skull eclipsing the sun. The music is also a key component—fitting for what can be simply described as an Islamic “Devil Went Down To Georgia” scenario. Colin Towns is composed the score, with James Galway overdubbing Firth’s concert performances. Special features include a new interview with Dehlavi; an archival lecture on Dehlavi’s work by Dr. Ali Nabil Ahmad; a featurette on djinn; an interview with scholar Seyda Momina Masood on the film and Pakistani horror in general; and Dehlavi’s first long-form film, “Towers of Silence.” Dehlavi’s short film “Qar” and an interview with actor Nabil Shaban are ported over from earlier releases.

Disc 5 has two films linked to water: South Korea’s Io Island (1977), directed by Kim Ky-young, and Saudi Arabia’s Scales (2019), directed by Shahad Ameen.

An executive on a spa resort project is suspected in the death of a man who opposed it. To clear himself and get to the truth, he goes to the island where the man came from. It is mainly populated with women, the men seemingly doomed to early death. Although based on a 1974 novel by South Korean author Lee Cheong-jun, viewers may feel the specter of The Wicker Man present in the atmosphere. Merging environmental concerns, fallout from corporate greed, mystical elements (shamanism and the curse on the island), and a dash of sexual politics, the film has a contemporary feel. Io Island accomplishes to far better effect what Neil LaBute ham-fistedly attempted in his remake of The Wicker Man. An audio commentary by Korean film historian Ariel Schudson is included along with a featurette on shamanism in South Korea and the short film “The Present.”

An expansion of her short film, “Eye & Mermaid,” Scales is about Hayat (Basima Hajjar) who should not exist in this world, but defiantly stakes her place in it. A seaside village has a ritual involving sacrificing the first-born daughters to sea sirens. One father saves his daughter from that fate, and she eventually becomes a hunter of mermaids, a role normally only for the men. The father’s attention wanes when a second daughter is born, and the men ridicule Hayat when she attempts to join the mermaid hunt. Their mockery turns to grudging respect when she proves herself, but even then she doesn’t truly belong. The mystical elements of sirens/mermaids are more forward in the latter half of the film, when the village is chastised by unknown forces. Special features include an interview with director Ameen and producer Rula Nasser and the short film “Kindil.”

Disc 6 focuses on ghostly Asian vengeance with 1968’s Bakeneko: A Vengeful Spirit and 1999’s Nang Nak. Directed by Yoshishiro Ishikawa, Bakeneko utilizes the Japanese archetype of the ghost cat. A young woman is killed by a corrupt Lord when she doesn’t become his concubine, but her cat drinks her blood and turns into a supernatural avenger, avenging not only her but also earlier victims. Ghost cat stories were common at the time: Kuroneko was released the same year, and Ishikawa had done the earlier Ghost Cat of Otama Pond (1960). Bakeneko doesn’t skimp on the scares, with decapitations,  blood spatters and limb-gnawing. Special features are a commentary by Jasper Sharp, “Scratched – A History of the Japanese Ghost Cat,” a reading of the folk tale “The Vampire Cat,” a trailer, and the unsettling animated short “Man-Eater Mountain.”

The legend of Mae Nak Phra Khanong is famous in Thai culture. Simply put, a soldier goes off to war, leaving behind his pregnant wife, and returns home after a nearly fatal injury. Only there’s something that he doesn’t realize: his wife and newborn child are dead. There’s a shrine in Thailand devoted to the legendarily loyal wife, as well as numerous adaptations for film and television from the late 1950s to present day (2013’s horror comedy Pee Mak, and the 2023 Netflix TV series “The Legend of Nang Nak”), but Nang Nak, directed by Nonzee Nimibutr (part of the Thai New Wave movement) will most likely be Western audiences’ first introduction to the folktale. This version balances the ghost story and the tragic romance well, and was a hit with audiences of the day. The commentary track from Laotian-American director Mattie Do and Asian gothic scholar Katarzyna Ancuta is extremely helpful in illustrating the aspects that a Western audience wouldn’t catch. Also present is “Nang Nak and the Rebirth of Thai Cinema,” an interview with the director.

Disc 7 focuses on Indonesian actress Suzzanna (AKA Suzzanna Martha Frederika van Osch), “The Queen of Indonesian Horror.” (The Final Girls blog provides a good overview of the star). An icon in Indonesia, yet virtually unknown outside Asia, Dave Gregory’s documentary Suzzanna: The Queen of Black Magic serves as a good introduction. The focus is on her horror output, of course, but the film gives a good grounding on her career leading up to that period, as well as the culture that framed her work and its success with audiences. To its credit, the documentary doesn’t gloss over the more contentious aspects of her life.

The narrative film chosen to represent Suzzana is 1981’s Sundel Bbolong, directed by Sisworo Gautama Putra. I don’t know if it’s her best role, but it’s certainly memorable; the film opens with an establishing voiceover, then Suzzanna rises into frame to the strains of “Night On Bald Mountain,” fixing the viewer with her trademark stare before turning around to expose a gaping hole in her back complete with maggot-ridden guts. It’s an unforgettable opening and introduction to the sundel bolong monster (a name that translates to “prostitute with a hole”). The story is a standard rape-revenge premise. After marrying, ex-prostitute Alisa is ready to put her old life behind her, but when her husband leaves on a job assignment for a few months, the jealousy of her old madam Mami leads to Alsia being raped by her henchmen. Her doctor refuses to perform an abortion; she does it herself and dies from complications, only to return as a sundel bolong to mete out justice to all the guilty parties. It’s effective, though there are some wide tonal shifts that may cause some mental whiplash in viewers: specifically, the comic bits with Mami’s male employees and food diner vendors who encounter the monster. “Hantu Retribution – Female Ghosts of the Malay Archipelago,” with filmmaker Katrina Irawati Graham and scholar Dr. Rosalind Galt, and Graham’s short film White Song,” based on the Indonesian ghost Kuntil Anak, comprise the disc’s extras.

Disc 8 features 2 films by Czech director Juraj Herz (The Cremator) that fit into the folk horror realm by way of the fairy tale. Beauty and the Beast (1978) and The Ninth Heart (1979) were shot back to back and share thematic and aesthetic qualities. Audiences are already familiar with the basics of “Beauty and the Beast” due to Disney’s animated version in the early 90s (or even better, Jean Cocteau’s 1946 version). The Ninth Heart, co-written by Herz and Josef Hanzlík, isn’t directly based on a specific tale, but there’s a strong element of the Grimm Brothers “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” at the core of the story. Herz’s take on the fairy tale material is dark. His original title for Beauty and the Beast was The Virgin and the Monster, reflected in his Beast being truly horrific (avian rather than leonine) and actually doing some killing. The Ninth Heart is a bit lighter in tone, but doesn’t flinch from the horror elements. Both films are on US Blu-ray for the first time; Beauty and the Beast was previously released by UK’s Second Run along with the short film “Frantisek Hrubin.” Severin’s release includes the short, a newly-recorded commentary from film historian Michael Brooke, and archival interviews with Herz and actors Vlastimil Harapes and Zdena Studenkova. The Ninth Heart is accompanied by a commentary by Kat Ellinger and two featurettes, “The Uncanny Valley of the Dolls: The History and Liminality of Dolls, Puppets and Mannequins” and “The Curious Case of Juraz Herz and The Svankmajers.”

Disc 9 features two Eastern European films where spirits are an integral part of the drama. First up is Poland’s Demon, directed by Marcin Wrona. Adapted from the play “Adherence” by Piotr Rowicki, the story draws heavily from folklore relating to the dybbuk. A couple is about to be married at a farm belonging to the bride’s family, which is in the midst of renovations. The night before, the groom discovers unearthed remains. The next day, the wedding ceremony and festivities take place and as things degenerate into a drunken party, the groom has a seizure—which appears to be a possession. As the celebrations continue, the bride attempts to make sense of what has happened to her husband, but members of her family stymie her, not wanting to interrupt the action but, more directly, not wanting to confront the reason why this has occurred. Demon was Wrona’s final film; he died in 2015 at age 42, and it serves as both a good introduction to international audiences and a fitting epitaph to a career cut short. It adroitly balances the humor of a wedding going wrong with horror: not of the possession itself, but of the circumstances that led to it—rooted in events of the years leading to WWII—and of a nation wanting to ignore the reality that certain behaviors lead to. Special features include an introduction by Slavic horror expert Agnieszka Jezyk, an informative commentary from film historian Daniel Bird and critic/actress Manuela Lazic, the video essay “In The Shadow of the Dybbuk” by Peter Bebergal and Stephen Broomer, a trailer for the film, and the 2019 short film “Dybbuk” by Dayan D. Oualid.

The second film on the disc is the dark Estonian tale November, directed by Rainer Sarnet. As one of the films in the 366 Weird Movies canon, there’s not much more to add. All of the features from the Oscilloscope Pictures release have been ported over: video essay “The Supernatural Lore of NOVEMBER,” test footage, theatrical trailer, and the short “Journey Through Setomaa,” the first ethnographic film from Estonia. Severin adds two more short films, 2009’s “Boundary” and 1946’s “Midvinterblot.”

Disc 10 pairs two fantasies, of sorts: Jean-Pierre Mocky‘s Litan (1982) and Christiane Cegavske‘s Blood Tea And Red String (2006).

Litan is like a good French version of a Dario Argento film, but with less sadism and woman-killing. It consistently sustains a dreamlike atmosphere throughout, helped by the cinematography of Edmond Richard, who worked with Orson Welles and Luis Buñuel. From the moment Nora wakes from a dream and goes to find Jock, whose square-jawed heroics are firmly within the pulp/giallo tradition, it’s nonstop forward momentum. Nora is an active heroine able to take care of herself, although also annoying in her single-minded goal of pursuing Jock to warn him of dangers that he constantly ignores. Director Mocky is an interesting character in French cinema. He started as an actor before moving behind the camera (he worked on early projects of Antonioni, Fellini, and Visconti). He worked in various genres, but returned to the fantastique regularly. A cursory glance at his career suggests a comparison to America’s Larry Cohen. For those who may be interested into delving further into Mocky, Radiance Films (UK) issued a limited edition box set, “The Agitator: Three Provocations From The Wild World of Jean-Pierre Mocky,” which include Litan, 1983’s Kill The Referee (a group of football hooligans pursue a referee whose ruling causes a championship loss), and 1987’s Agent Trouble (an eco-thriller with Catherine Deneuve). The limited set sold out but standard editions are available. Severin’s presentation on “Haunts” includes a commentary by film historian Frank Laflond and 2 featurettes: “Un Tournage LITAN,” a half hour, “making-of,” and “Jean-Pierre Mocky, Un Drole D’Oiseau,” a career overview, both made for French television.

Cegavske’s stop-motion animated fable Blood Tea And Red String is also part of the 366 Weird Movies canon. Previously released on DVD only, this is its Blu-ray premiere. It looks great, boasting a scan from the original camera negative. Added is a short introduction by Cegavske along with a half hour Q&A from the 2021 Indie Scream Online Film Festival, a trailer for the film, and a trailer for Cegavske’s work-in-progress feature Seed in the Sand. A short presentation of stills and illustrations are ported over from the DVD release; not included is a commentary with Cegavske and critic Luke Y. Thompson, so those who may have the DVD might want to hold onto it.

Disc 11 features two works made in countries that had authoritarian regimes either before or after the films were made: Argentina’s 1973 Nazareno Cruz And The Wolf, directed by Leonardo Favio, is coupled with Spain’s Akelarre, directed by Pedro Olea in 1984.

Based loosely on the Luiso (man-wolf) legend of the Guarani people of Paraguay, the titular Nazerano Cruz is the seventh son born after the death of his father and six brothers, cursed to turn into a wolf when he comes of age. His godmother, a witch, christens him with the name to help protect him, which seems to help as he grows into a good-natured young man. That changes when he encounters Griselda and falls in love. There’s also the Stranger, a charismatic gentleman who offers Nazareno riches and respite from the curse if he renounces his love. Nazareno refuses, and tragedy ensues. I’d venture to say that few of the audience picking up this set have heard of Leonardo Favio before now. He’s well-known as a successful director/singer-songwriter in Argentina, and Nazareno has become a classic and the most successful film of all time in Argentina. It plays like a South American telenovela, which is not too surprising considering that it’s based on a popular radio serial and was a co-production between Argentina and Mexico. Favio places striking visual flourishes and touches of Jodorowsky throughout. It’s not a musical, but it has an operatic quality that adds to its over-the-top intensity, making for a great viewing experience. Nazareno makes its Blu-ray debut here.  Scanned from the only existing print, the picture quality is good, despite not being sourced from negative. An audio commentary with directors Adrian Garcia Bogliano (Here Comes The Devil) and Nicanor Loreti (Punto Rojo) is the main special feature, along with the 2003 Brazilian short “Love From Mother Only,” directed by Dennison Ramalho, which also includes a director’s commentary.

You can’t have a folk-horror set without featuring a witch trial at some point. In this case, that’s 1984’s Akelarre. Based on real events in 17^th Century Spain—specifically in Navarre, Basque country—the story begins when a young girl confesses to being a witch and the Spanish Inquisition comes into a pagan community. The town rebels, leading to serious clampdowns by the Inquisition. It’s very much in the vein of The Devils or Witchhammer, though not as graphic. It functions as an explicit critique of the Franco era and its aftermath. Special features include an interview with director Pedro Olea; “Invoking The Akelarre,” an interview with author Dr. Antonio Lazaro-Reboll on the Basque witch trials, and interviews with actors Silvia Munt and Inaki Miramon.

Disc 12 has one main title, the 1981 Welsh short (45 min.) From The Old Earth [O’r Ddaear Hen], a straightforward tale with familiar elements. After a prologue of a ritual sacrifice in the past, it shifts to present day (circa 1980) Wales. A stone head is unearthed, and bad dreams and apparitions terrorize an archeologist’s family, all culminating in a bad end. With above-average acting and direction, it was one of the first horror films in the Welsh language produced by the Welsh Film Board, which was a factor in screening it to primary school children—apparently with little thought of the content. Special features are an introduction to the film by Welsh musician Gruff Rhys; an interview with director Wil Aaron shot at a school where one of the prop heads ended up at; a featurette on the Welsh Film Board; and the 2023 short film “The Wyrm Of Bwlch Pen Barras.” Also hidden amongst the features is an hour long bonus feature Blood on the Stars [Gwaed ar y Ser], directed by Aaron in 1975. It has elements that could fall under the folk-horror umbrella, and similarities to what would be soon be called the slasher film, but it’s much lighter than Old Earth (despite involving murders of Welsh celebrities scheduled to perform in a small town).

Disc 13 closes out the set with the UK’s  The City of The Dead (1960), directed by John Moxey, and the 1976 Philippine film The Rites of May, directed by Mike de Leon.

The City of the Dead (AKA Horror Hotel) begins in 1690 in the town of Whitewood, Massachusetts, with the betrayal and burning of a witch who curses the town. Fast-forward to 1960 when a young college student visits present-day Whitewood and disappears. Her brother and boyfriend retrace her steps to find her and encounter the same forces. It’s witchcraft/devil worship, with a slight whiff of Lovecraft due to the New England setting, but with a British cast and a structure similar to Psycho (which was shooting around the same time). It’s entertaining, and the start of what would become Amicus Films, with the presence of Christopher Lee and producers Milton Subotsky and Max Rosenberg. It’s also a strong entry for director Moxey, who a decade later would become more known for horror-related TV-movie fare (The Night Stalker, Where Have All The People Gone?) under the name John Llewellyn Moxey. City was previously released by VCI and Arrow Films along with the U.S. cut (titled Horror Hotel to play up the Psycho connotations), with special features including 3 commentaries and interviews with Lee, Moxey and actress Venetia Stevenson. Severin ports most of that to their release, cutting back the Lee featurette to 8 minutes and not including Horror Hotel, but adds an introduction by  Kay Lynch, the director of The Salem Horror Film Fest. It also includes a new commentary by Kim Newman and Barry Forshaw, and a video essay on Moxey by TV historian Amanda Reyes and filmmaker Chris O’Neill.

Philippine director Mike de Leon is not as well known to Western audiences, despite an acclaimed and substantial career in the Philippines. The Rites of May (AKA Itim) is his first feature film. It’s sort of a ghost story. A photographer (Tommy Abuel) returns to his childhood home for a magazine assignment during Holy Week, and checks in on his infirm father. He encounters a young woman, Teresa, (Charo Santos) who is possessed by the spirit of her dead sister, who is using her to uncover the cause of her death. The English title refers explicitly to the spiritual background of the Holy Week setting. Catholic rituals such as a pasyon and self-flagellating penitents are contrasted with seances. It’s not inaccurate, but an alternate title, Dark—a direct translation of the original Itim—better conveys the mood and feel. There’s a haze of guilt in the film which gives the proceedings an unsettling and uncanny feel, along with visual touches such as the photographer’s dream of statues coming to life. De Leon’s take on the material is closer to Nicolas Roeg than conventional horror. This is the first Western release of the film on disc, and it’s accompanied by an informative commentary by Filipino film historian Andrew Leavold; “Portrayal Of Guilt,” a featurette with film scholar Frances N. Sangil; and the short documentary “Itim: An Exploration In Cinema,” which includes scenes from De Leon’s short “Monologo” [“Monologue”], which inspired Itim but is now lost.

Overall, Volume 2 succeeds in both pushing the boundaries of what viewers expect under the banner of folk-horror and educating the audience in an entertaining fashion. Not everybody is going to like every film presented, but for the intellectually curious and non-lazy film fan, this is a great way to immerse oneself for several months, and a more than worthy follow-up to the first collection. Fully expect a Vol. 3 to see the light of day in the near future; a wish-list for that would hopefully include The Fool Killer and Grim Prairie Tales.