Quiet Little Horrors

Bergman March continues with what is often regarded as Ingmar Bergman's only "real" horror film. We might dispute it's his only one, but not that this one goes to some horrific places. We discuss the figure of the tortured, self-absorbed artist, women's sustaining labor and if it's possible for artists to make the right bargains with the world.

What wouldn't brighten the tail end of winter but some profound psychological chaos, despair and dread? So we're taking on a couple of Ingmar Bergman films, beginning with 1972's Cries and Whispers. We discuss the brilliant color cinematography of Sven Nykvist, the complex bonds between women and seeking freedom in the liminal spaces between life and death. You know, nice, lighthearted spring fare.

We're not done with vampires yet. After sharing our favorites, we discovered that each host had one film on her list that the other had not seen and that the two films seemed oddly complementary: I Like Bats and Martin. So we both caught up and circled back to discuss two of the strangest and most psychological films in the vampire canon.

After Nosferatu, we wanted to keep talking about vampires—but there were so many movies to pick from that, instead of choosing only one or two, we each brought a whole darn list. So enjoy as we discuss A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, Daughters of Darkness, Thirst, Habit, The Addiction, My Heart Can't Beat Unless You Tell It To and all the other best offbeat vampires that movies have to offer.

It's a new year and a new season, and we're starting things off with a dark, dread-filled, mustachioed bang: Robert Eggers's 2024 Nosferatu. We discuss filmmaking from another era, storytelling from another era, and the feminine urge for death. Also: cats! Who survive!

2024 is coming to a close and that means it's time to take stock. We share our picks for our favorite episodes, our favorite films we saw this past year, and what we're looking forward to seeing next year. Happy New Year, friends!

In 18th-century Austria, women be depressed. For pretty good reasons. We discuss the recent film, The Devil's Bath, and cover what it feels like to be trapped in an oppressive society, both sides of subtlety, and why maybe sometimes people should talk things out before resorting to murder (sometimes).

Bunny Lake is missing ... or did she never exist? You know women, always making up imaginary children to claim have been kidnapped. We discuss Otto Preminger's 1965 psychological whodunnit, Bunny Lake Is Missing, including the differences between the film and its source novel, and society's hysterical assumptions about women without children, or women with children via unconventional ways.

To follow up our discussion with Toby Poser and John Adams, we take a closer look at their recent feature, also starring daughter Zelda Adams, Hellbender, and talk about folktales, monstrous mother-daughter relationships, and coming to terms with who you are.

A little something different this time: we sit down with filmmakers Toby Poser and John Adams to discuss their homegrown horror films and what it's like working on a film as a family. Enjoy!

We go on an existential romp through loneliness, isolation, and serial killings, with a dash of bizarre sailor-themed nightclub musical. 1970's The Strangler is a French giallo of deep weirdness and opportunity for discussion—which is what we do around here, so this one is a good one.

We hate the title, but we love the movie. And we love Liz Taylor, who gives a striking performance as an odd, difficult woman hell-bent on self-destruction in 1974's Indentikit. Also Andy Warhol shows up for a bit, because why not.

While we don't often cover new releases so close to their release dates, we anticipated that Longlegs was a good opportunity for an exception. This episode, we bookend our earlier episode on director Oz Perkins's debut feature with a discussion on his latest. Covered topics include the legacy of Anthony Perkins, the mythic potential of horror film, creeping dread, existential terror, unsettling silence. You know. The usual.

It's Oz Perkins season here at the podcast. In anticipation of Longlegs, we went back to his debut The Blackcoat's Daughter—a film we've mentioned before, because it's about 200% our thing, but this is the first time we've discussed it in depth. Devils, psychosis, and another installment in our favorite ongoing thematic series, "teenage girls are terrifying."

Since we got on the topic of demonically possessed faux documentary, what else could we do next but talk about Ghostwatch and its timeless capacity for inspiring abject horror and lasting mental trauma. Have fun!

Once more into the breach of found footage, although this time with a self-aware twist, in Late Night with the Devil. We discuss the evolving genre, doing a lot with a little, and the haunted brillance of David Dastmalchian.

The last in our mini series of episodes about doppelganger films is one about a little known Roger Moore gem: The Man Who Haunted Himself, from 1970. The swinging sixties are never over if you've got a reckless, hard-living double of yourself running around town causing trouble. We discuss the tension of determining what is reality and what's in one's head, how much we enjoy a solid psychological thriller, and why emotional repression is probably not the way to live one's life (even if it doesn't result in an evil doppelganger).

We're still on a tear about doubles, so this time we talk about one of the most direct, recent horror films on the subject: Jordan Peele's Us, from 2019. We discuss real-world parallels, social antiheroines, unsettling endings, and, of course, The Twilight Zone.

Quick note: Our apologies for the delay with this episode—Jen was moving and has been even more scattered than usual. We're working our way through a series of episodes about films featuring doppelgangers and doubles, and for this one we reach back to classic Hollywood: Hitchcock's Vertigo. We discuss the meta machinery of making the "perfect" woman, how women end up participating in the same machinery themselves, and how much we love Midge.

And we're back! We took a brief break and have returned with a long stretch of movies on a favorite theme: doppelgangers. We begin with 2010's Black Swan and discuss how it holds up over a decade after its release—especially these days, when the psychological horror film landscape is crowded with more unhinged women than you can shake a stick at, if that's your sort of thing.

You know what's really scary? Songwriter's block. And also maybe ghosts. But also maybe not? The Strings is one of the quietest and most subtle films we've covered, almost entirely about interiority, isolation, and the prices people pay for creation. But also maybe ghosts? Who can say.

This month we're delving into sound and music and all of their meta cinematic potential, beginning with the extremely meta Berberian Sound Studio. We discuss the practical art of sound effects, the tremendous performance of Toby Jones, and how one of our favorite movie endings is the dissolution of reality (we're very normal, that's why we have this podcast).

We go deep into the Irish wilderness for a found footage folk horror romp full of cults, secrets, and annoying young people with 2016's Crone Wood.

We go back to our roots with this overlooked gem of classic British folk horror, Robin Redbreast. Contains some progressive perspectives current society seems to have retreated from and enduring the life lesson that you should never sleep with boring men, however pretty they are.

We get experimental with one of our favorites from the past year, Enys Men, and discuss the wide range of folk horror, the deadening repetition of women's lives, and being unstuck in time and space. You know, a nice, normal start to 2024.

Happy New Year! With 2023 in the books, we take a look back at our favorite films from the past year, new and old, and what we're looking forward to in 2024.

Now that we've discussed the original Black Christmas, there's nothing else to do this year but take a look at the two remakes: one from 2006 and one from 2019. They both have a hard time living up to the first, they each have a charming weirdness worth watching.

Merry Christmas! Don't answer your phone! Or trust your weirdly controlling boyfriend! But do drink and insult people à la Margo Kidder as Barb. Let's talk about the original Black Christmas.

We extend our discussion about silent horror films with one of the most interesting cinematic takes on the topic: 2000's Shadow of the Vampire. Come for Willem Dafoe as the somewhat comical undead, stay for the subtext about what horrific sacrifices humans should make for the sake of art.

This month we're getting classy and discussing a topic we haven't ventured into yet: silent horror film. We talk about the ones we love and the ones on our watchlists, and dig into the details of what silent horror film has to offer with The Cabin

The October theme is suburban horror, so what could we cover next but Tom Hanks's journey through the wilds of having very weird and somewhat suspicious neighbors: 1989's The 'Burbs. Let us appreciate Joe Dante, Carrie Fisher and Dick Miller.

It's October and so we're exploring the spookiest place of all ... the suburbs. This month we cover surburban horror, starting off with the classic of the genre: Poltergeist.

For our second entry in our haunted house theme, it's time to get weird. We discuss one of the most gloriously bizarre horror movies there is: 1977's House (otherwise known as Hausu). Ghosts, cats, and watermelons, oh my.

We get experimental and existential with the minimalist horror of Skinamarink, the best low-budget way to relive your latchkey kid childhood trauma. Since this month's episodes are tied to haunted houses, we also discuss the short internet art film My house walk-through, another very fun and chill exploration of how simple things can scare the hell out of us on film.  

Now that we've discussed the original Carrie, we decided to look at both remakes and, just for good measure, the sequel. So in this episode we're talking about Carrie from 2002, Carrie from 2013, and The Rage: Carrie 2 from 1999, and, more importantly, what it is about this story that leads us back to it again and again.

We usually play in the deeper, more obscure end of horror film, so this is probably the most well-known film we've covered so far—but there is plenty to talk about, psychologially speaking, in the original Carrie: the ultimate in slow-burn horror, buried female rage, and the explosive danger of being a teenage girl.

We join the march to give Jennifer's Body its long overdue flowers. Demonic possession, the intense and complicated friendships between teenage girls, and how the filmmakers got done dirty by the media. Turn it up.

We could not in good conscience call ourselves a psychological horror podcast if we did not, at some point, discuss Possession, and now it's time. Infidelity, esponiage, losing one's mind in a subway, sex with eldritch horrors. There's a lot to discuss. Gird your loins.

It's summer for us at Quiet Little Horrors, so it's the perfect season to picnic, loll dreamily on the lawn, and disappear into an ancient, mysterious rock formation, never to be seen by humans again. We get metaphorical with our coming-of-age theme while discussing 1975's Picnic at Hanging Rock.

This month we're looking at some bloody coming of age tales, beginning with the 2022 Finnish film Hatching, which is half weirdly adorable creature feature and half what damage girls have do to deal with their inherited demons.

We continue our discussion of twisted sisters with this overlooked gem of 1970s psychological horror: The Mafu Cage, featuring Carol Kane and Lee Grant as a pair of codependent siblings who drag each other past the point of repair. Content warning for implied animal harm (nothing graphic) and incest.

This month we're taking on a couple of films about the relationships between twisted sisters, starting, appropriately enough, with Sisters, from Brian De Palma in 1972. We discuss women who cause trouble, women who aren't believed, and women who might not be what they seem.

And we're back! Apologies for the interruption in regular podcast programming. But we return with the second half of our discussion of modern Irish horror and a look at Kate Dolan's 2021's film You Are Not My Mother, which twists expectations of metaphorical folklore in fascinating ways.

Our first episode of March is a springboard into the quietly blossoming world of contemporary Irish horror film. We discuss the emerging genre, its deep roots in folklore, and two representative recent films: 2015's The Hallow and 2022's Mandrake.

We continue our Cronenberg discussion with one of his thorniest films, psychologically speaking: 1979's The Brood. Thesis statement: emotions are real and powerful and if you don't process them properly, murderous rage babies will result.

It's David Cronenberg season here at QLH. We kick off a pair of episodes on his extensive, intensive, and twisted body of work (see what we did there) with 1986's The Fly. We discuss the film's connections to the original, disease metaphors, and the unbearable oddness of being Jeff Goldblum.

We continue this month's parenthood theme with the 2021 horrific fairy tale Lamb, which turns out to be more than just a weirdly cute A24 marketing campaign. We discuss the dark side of wanting a child, the traditional martyrdom of mothers, and, once again, how fairy tales are actually kind of messed up.

Happy New Year! This month we're discussing films that deal with the topic of parenthood, so the first film we're taking on is, of course, David Lynch's 1977 Eraserhead. What a way to start the year. Hold on to your hair.

It's several complicated layers of found footage horror in our discussion of 2018's Butterfly Kisses. We talk some more about the genre's advantages and limitations, some more of our favorite found footage horror films, and a couple of our least favorite found footage horror films.

This month we're tackling "found footage" horror films and shaking it up right out of the gate by first discussing this year's We're All Going to the World's Fair, directed by Jane Schoenbrun. We cover the evolution of found footage, internet storytelling culture and how the kind of low-key horror in this form opens up exploration.

We wrap up our discussion of 80s horror by going deep into one of the decade's most idiosyncratic offerings: Kathryn Bigelow's solo directorial debut from 1987, Near Dark. Let's talk incredible vibes, the ongoing evolution of the vampire, and Bill f-ing Paxton.