In Ari Aster’s Midsommar (2019), horror doesn’t hide in the shadows — it blossoms in the light. Join me as we travel to Hälsingland, where grief becomes ritual, flowers mask teeth, and the sun never sets.

This episode explores:

• Dani’s journey from devastating loss to May Queen.

• How cults prey on the vulnerable, offering belonging in exchange for obedience.

• The clash between individualism and community, grief and ritual, liberation and control.

• Why Midsommar has become an icon of “daylight horror,” echoing films like The Wicker Man and reshaping modern horror.

Grief burns, flowers bloom, and the fire still waits.

In the heart of Nebraska, the corn whispers. Behind those endless rows lies a god who demands blood — and the children of Gatlin are ready to obey.

This week on The Left Hand of Horror, we drive straight into Stephen King’s nightmare of faith twisted into fanaticism. From Isaac’s fire-and-brimstone sermons to Malachai’s merciless blade, Children of the Corn turns innocence into terror and the American Midwest into a killing ground.

We’ll trace the film’s haunting imagery, dissect its cultural roots in religious fundamentalism and rural fear, and ask why its warnings about blind faith, cult mentality, and youth radicalization still cut deep today.

The harvest never ends. The god still waits. And the children are still chanting in the rows.

Step into the fields — if you dare.

A missing child. A devout policeman. An island of music, maypoles, and pagan ritual. Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man (1973) is not just a film — it is a sacrifice. Beneath its folk songs and pastoral beauty lies a story of faith colliding with fire, of repression mocked by liberation, of ritual demanding blood.

In this episode of The Left Hand of Horror, we step into the flames to uncover how The Wicker Man became a cornerstone of folk horror — exploring its clash of ideologies, its echoes in modern cults and conspiracies, and its legacy as one of the most haunting finales in cinema.

Fog that blinds. Sirens that split the air. Ash that falls like snow. Christophe Gans’ Silent Hill (2006) isn’t just a monster movie — it’s a descent into trauma, faith turned cruel, and a town built on suffering. Inspired by the real ghost town of Centralia, Pennsylvania, this episode of The Left Hand of Horror explores how Silent Hill became more than a video game adaptation — it became a mirror of our deepest fears: environmental collapse, inherited pain, and wounds that never heal.

Even the holiest walls have shadows. The Conjuring: Last Rites closes the Warrens’ story in the heart of Rome, where relics bleed, catacombs echo, and faith itself begins to falter. In this episode of The Left Hand of Horror, we descend beneath the Vatican to uncover the film’s gothic terror, its critique of crumbling institutions, and the final weapon Ed and Lorraine wield against the dark: love.

Consequence doesn’t sprint. It walks. Step by step, closer and closer, until it’s here. David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows strips horror down to its most primal truth — the dread that you can’t outrun what’s coming. In this episode of The Left Hand of Horror, we trace the curse through Detroit’s ruins, through folklore and myth, through modern shadows like debt, trauma, and climate change. Because some things don’t die. They follow. Always.

Grief doesn’t vanish. It lingers — in silence, in shadows, in the walls of your own home. Jennifer Kent’s The Babadook turns mourning into a monster, showing us that loss isn’t something you banish, but something you live with. In this episode of The Left Hand of Horror, we descend into the basement and confront the horror of what we carry inside.

In this debut episode of The Left Hand of Horror, Alejandro unpacks the film’s unforgettable imagery and explores the deeper fears it embodies: inherited guilt, family curses, and the science of intergenerational trauma. From the echoes of Salem’s witch trials to the claustrophobic terror of the Graham household, this episode digs into what makes Hereditary one of the most haunting films of modern horror.