top of page


As a horror lover, I love whenever Halloween rolls around. While I can find an excuse to watch a scary movie anytime of the year, my tangents on practical effects become tolerable around October. I’m like one of those people who start celebrating Christmas even before Thanksgiving; as soon as a leaf turns orange, I bring out the Notes App of costumes I’ve been planning all year. 


That said, when I mention that I like horror movies (especially in the “good for her” variety), I always get recommended the same films; Ti West’s X trilogy, The Love Witch, Midsommar (not really “good for her” horror, but great to know y’all would join a creepy white people cult). I like those movies just fine, but I was excited and then subsequently disappointed by Maxxxine since I saw Pearl years ago. I’m also one of those pretentious film nerds that can stomach subtitles, so I’m a sucker for artsy foreign films. So unfortunately, it wouldn’t be right for me to gatekeep; based on movies everyone already knows and loves, here’s my certified “if you like this, try that” list (horror movie edition)!


If you like American Psycho, try…

  • Man Bites Dog: a Belgian mockumentary where the film crew follows and films the exploits of Ben, a serial killer. Surprisingly, it’s also a black comedy. Like with American Psycho, if you can get a few laughs out of some truly horrific scenes (and glean a little social commentary as well), Ben might become the new Patrick Bateman.


If you like Jennifer’s Body, try…

  • Raw: a French coming-of-age film about a girl who discovers her budding sexuality… By eating people. This one’s for my cannibalism girlies out there, especially when cannibalism is a metaphor for love/sex. Other entries for “puberty is terrifying so we’ll make it slay and scary” films (my favorite subgenre in the “good for her” category) include Ginger Snaps and Bones and All. 


If you like Hereditary, try…

  • Tigers Are Not Afraid: oh, you have generational trauma and you’re attracted to media that explores that theme through a supernatural lens? Except this one involves a little girl being haunted by her mother, who was killed by the Mexican cartel? And then you remember, oh yeah, the director based this OFF HER OWN EXPERIENCES (minus the ghosts… presumably)


If you like Midsommar, try…

  • The Wolf House: okay, I was kidding about the creepy white people cult… But speaking of creepy white people cults, this film is based off of a real one! This film is an animated (stop-motion with drawn elements) psychedelic fairy tale based off of Colonia Dignidad, a real-life Nazi cult that escaped to Chile and abused children, and is fashioned as a propaganda film produced by the leader to further brainwash followers into staying. 


If you like Friday the 13th, try…

  • Sleepaway Camp: saved the surprise for last! I’ve scrolled to the bottom of Tubi’s horror section, so I love niche slashers as well. Personally, I find Friday the 13th, as revolutionary as it was, a bit primitive in comparison to its counterparts. Sleepaway Camp, however, is anything but primitive. The acting is hilarious (camp, if you will…), the kills are incredible, especially given that they were done practically, and the killer? While argued that the twist was done in poor taste, an icon nonetheless… 


Written by Ava Sharahy

Photography by Francesca DiMiceli

Talent: Sawyer Evans





It’s difficult to recall the exact moment I watched the 1988 ‘Beetlejuice’ for the first time. By the time I was a teenager, it felt like the movie was just a natural part of my life and my annual Halloween rewatches. The campy and macabre magic that Burton brings to life through an amalgamation of living and dead characters created one of the most iconic films of his discography. Now, after 36 years, Michael Keaton’s absurd demon and Winona Ryder’s goth baby bangs are back on screen in a nostalgia-filled, undeniably Tim Burton sequel. 


The film starts with context for a couple of decades we have missed since we last saw Beetlejuice, with grown-up (still goth) Lydia Deetz as host of a paranormal television talk show and Delia Deetz (Catherine O’Hara) reuniting in the wake of a sudden loss. The reunion leads us to meet Astrid (Jenna Ortega), Lydia’s estranged daughter away at boarding school, and Lydia’s producer boyfriend, Rory (Justin Theroux). In a funeral planned with haste, further chaos ensues, including a rushed proposal, Astrid meeting a Tate Langdon-esque love interest, and Betelgeuse’s ex-wife (Monica Bellucci) have risen from the dead (again) (sort of). 



Notably, Keaton’s Betelguese (or Beetlejuice, if you will) brings life to the screen beyond the cinematic grave. He remains witty, horny, and irrevocably charming. The thirty years that have passed mean nothing to the Juice, the antics made with special effects still illuminate the screen and elicit giggles out of every seat filled in the theater. 


The plot of the film seems strewn together by a very eclectic thread, moments seeming out of place and characters going ignored for large amounts of screentime, but the lawlessness and rule-bending of cinema is what charms the audiences of 2024, as well as the intense pluck of nostalgia strings. The beloved classic features a maximalist camp backdrop to a familial drama for the misunderstood, and this film is at times too keenly aware of the service it wants to provide for fans. The impressive and original production design that creates the unseen realms of the afterlife remind fans of just how great Burton is at telling his stories the way he wants to. A whimsical score by common collaborator Danny Elfman to accompany the film also puts a smile on any fan’s face. 



Fan service, what is now becoming the film industry’s newest epidemic, can feel gimmicky and money-hungry. While Beetlejuice Beetlejuice dominated in the box office, it's not solely due to repeated motifs of sandworms and iconic red wedding dresses, but Burton knowing his audience. The boy-ish and all the while eccentric humor keeps its spirit three decades later. What could have been considered a cheap, throw-away line or reference is made dear to the new plot of the 2024 iteration of Beetlejuice’s latest adventures. 


It's often said that no sequel can ever surpass the original, and that applies to Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, However, it's not trying to in any way. It’s a sequel that wants to keep the spirit and magic of the first installation alive, which is still rare in today’s climate. And obviously is a beautiful setup for the third installation, saying his name three times…if you dare. 


Written by Ana Marks

Photography: Mark Bluemle

Director / Talent: Jazzi Almestica



Witchcraft has always held a complex and multifaceted role in the media, shaped by historical shifts, societal anxieties, and evolving cultural values. From its early associations with fear and the supernatural to its more modern depictions as a tool for empowerment, witchcraft has undergone a significant transformation, especially in the hands of creators who draw from both personal experience and scholarship. Sarah Lyons, a Brooklyn-based witch, filmmaker, and writer, offers a unique perspective on this transformation. As the author of “Revolutionary Witchcraft: A Guide to Magical Activism” and the director of the horror film “The Woods”, Lyons delves into the intersections of witchcraft, horror, and media representation in a way that challenges conventions and deepens our understanding of both genres.

 

 The Evolution of Witchcraft in Popular Culture

Lyons begins by reflecting on how witchcraft has evolved over the years, especially within popular culture. "Witchcraft has gone through so many changes in the last couple of years alone," she observes, pointing out how Wicca, once the dominant form of modern witchcraft, no longer holds a monopoly on the practice. "I remember when I was growing up, what people knew about witchcraft, what I knew about witchcraft, was like Wicca," Lyons explains. Wicca, a modern pagan religion that emerged in the mid-20th century, became synonymous with witchcraft for many people, largely due to its prominence in popular media and the public imagination.


However, as Lyons notes, Wicca is only one facet of a much broader and older tradition. "Wicca is not what witchcraft has historically been," she emphasizes, pointing to the resurgence of interest in other forms of magic and occultism in recent years. This resurgence has been fueled by a wealth of new scholarship, podcasts, books, and media that explore the diverse and often radical history of witchcraft. For practitioners like Lyons, this shift has been liberating. "I think it's a very exciting time to practice witchcraft," she says, highlighting the increased visibility and accessibility of different traditions and perspectives.


At the same time, Lyons acknowledges the tension between the commercialization of witchcraft and its more subversive, underground roots. "There's the capitalist cooption of it," she says, referencing the way witchcraft has been commodified in recent years. The rise of "witch kits" in retail stores, social media influencers promoting witchy aesthetics, and the commercialization of occult symbols have made witchcraft more accessible but also more consumer-driven. "I appreciate and am more in favor of witchcraft being what it is now than what it was a decade or two ago," Lyons adds, but she remains wary of the ways in which capitalism has diluted its radical potential.



Witchcraft in Media: The Fantastical vs. the Real

Media portrayals of witchcraft have long oscillated between fantasy and reality, a theme Lyons explores in depth. As someone who grew up watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Charmed, she understands the appeal of fantastical witches on screen. "There's something to be said for the fantastical and fun," she admits, acknowledging that these media portrayals often spark curiosity and wonder about real-life witchcraft. Shows like Sabrina the Teenage Witch may not accurately reflect the nuances of witchcraft, but they provide an accessible entry point for many people, especially young viewers.


Yet, Lyons is also critical of the tendency to reduce witchcraft to a simple metaphor for empowerment, especially in modern media. "With a lot of stuff in media these days, it feels like we've decided what's empowering and what's not empowering," she observes. While witchcraft can certainly be about empowerment, Lyons argues that it is far more complex than that. "The word 'witch' is a gender-neutral term," she points out, highlighting the diverse cultural and historical contexts in which witchcraft has appeared.


Lyons’ own work seeks to explore this complexity. In her book Revolutionary Witchcraft, she examines the radical potential of witchcraft as a tool for political and social change, challenging the mainstream narrative that often equates witchcraft solely with empowerment for women. Instead, she delves into its anti-authoritarian roots and its potential as a form of resistance against oppressive systems.

 

Horror as Catharsis: The Power of Fear

In addition to her work as a writer, Lyons is also a filmmaker, and her film The Woods explores the psychological and emotional depths of horror. For Lyons, horror is a genre that offers unique opportunities for catharsis. "Fear is one of the most primal human emotions," she explains, and horror films allow audiences to engage with that fear in a controlled environment. "Horror relies on the body," Lyons says, emphasizing the physical and visceral nature of the genre. Unlike many other forms of art, which tend to prioritize intellectual or aesthetic experiences, horror is deeply emotional, often provoking powerful reactions in viewers.


Lyons also believes that horror is one of the most creatively free genres. "You put something a little spooky in there and you can talk about anything," she says. Horror, by its very nature, allows filmmakers to explore taboo subjects, challenge societal norms, and push the boundaries of storytelling. "You can set it in any time period. You can tackle any matter. You can cast any people you want," Lyons notes, pointing out that few other genres offer this kind of creative freedom.


Despite its emotional and creative power, however, horror is often marginalized in the world of "high art." Lyons notes the tendency for horror films to be overlooked during awards season, even when they feature standout performances or innovative filmmaking. "I think it's interesting that those genres that deal foremost with the body—horror, comedy, erotic fiction—are pushed to the side because of that reason," she says, observing how the cultural gatekeepers of "high art" often privilege intellectualism over emotional engagement. For Lyons, this is a false dichotomy. Horror, she argues, is just as capable of offering profound insights into the human condition as any other genre—perhaps even more so, given its ability to tap into our most primal fears and desires.



Witchcraft and Horror: A Subversive Intersection

The intersection of witchcraft and horror is particularly fascinating, as both are often seen as subversive forces that challenge societal norms. Witches, especially in horror films, are frequently portrayed as dangerous, malevolent figures—symbols of chaos, destruction, and the unknown. But as Lyons points out, witchcraft is also a source of power, especially for those who have been marginalized or oppressed. "The witch, in this context, becomes a figure of resistance," Lyons says, someone who challenges the status quo and refuses to be controlled.


In horror films, witches are often depicted as ambiguous figures, neither wholly good nor wholly evil. This ambiguity, Lyons suggests, reflects the complexity of witchcraft itself, which cannot be neatly categorized or defined. "Witchcraft isn't a defined thing. It's ambiguous," she explains, and this ambiguity is part of what makes it so compelling, both in real life and in media. It defies easy categorization, existing in the liminal space between good and evil, power and fear, magic and reality.


In The Woods, Lyons explores these themes of ambiguity and power, using horror as a vehicle to delve into the psychological and emotional depths of trauma and the human condition. The film follows a group of characters as they confront both external dangers, past traumas and their own inner demons. By blending elements of folk horror with psychological thriller, Lyons creates a narrative that is as unsettling as it is thought-provoking, offering viewers a glimpse into the darker, more mysterious aspects of humanity.

 

Conclusion: Witchcraft, Horror, and the Media

Sarah Lyons' work as a writer and filmmaker challenges conventional portrayals of witchcraft and horror, offering a more nuanced and multifaceted exploration of these themes. Lyons' reflections on witchcraft, horror, and the media invite us to reconsider our assumptions about these subjects. Witchcraft, she argues, is not just a symbol of empowerment—it is a dynamic, evolving practice with deep historical roots and radical potential. And horror, far from being a lowbrow genre, offers a powerful space for confronting our deepest fears and desires. In both cases, Lyons sees the potential for transformation, liberation, and, perhaps, a little magic.


Written By Jai LePrince

Photography by Eva Tusquets

You reached the end! Make an account to get updated when new articles and interviews drop.

bottom of page