Don’t let the devil in – A proper mind-twister, eller hur?

Alright, so I just saw “Don’t let the devil in” last night, literally midnight on a half-broken couch. You know when a film makes you double-check that you’ve actually locked the front door? Yeah, that kind of creepy. I didn’t sleep like a king, kan jag säga!

Let’s get into it. The guy behind this madness is Courtney Fathom Sell. Bit of a wildcard, not your classic Bergman-type, but there’s a certain punk spirit. You can tell he’s watched more than a few gnarly euro-horrors… Like, throw some Bava and old Fläskfilé-western vibes in, stir it up, and voilà: you get this weird blend.

As for actors, Marc Slanger pops up (he’s got that “my uncle who’s been in jail vibe,” in a good way) and Jordan Lewis, who somehow looks like she should be running a café in Gävle instead of being terrorized by random weirdos. I half expected her to start selling cinnamon buns mid-scene.

The sound design? Oof. There’s this constant droning that honestly made me think of that summer in Borås when my cousin Kristofer tried learning the bagpipes, and we all suffered. Not a soundscape for folks wanting peace and quiet, that’s for sure.

Swedish viewers? There’s that rural paranoia that hits home if you’ve been to some half-empty town like Kilafors in November. The isolation. Neighbours acting weird, like they’ve got secrets. We’ve all been at some family dinner where you start wondering who might snap.

I’ll be real – it’s not perfect, felt a bit cheap at times, and pacing gets weird. But like, maybe that’s the point? Small-budget stuff with actual guts, not pretending to be fancy. Not everything has to be Hollywood-glossy, eller hur? For a Friday night when you need to remind yourself why you keep the lights on – this will do the trick.

And I swear, I’m still locking my windows tonight.

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