Where the Devil Dwells – sweaty men, ugly masks and too much blood

So this one caught me off guard. “Where the Devil Dwells” – kinda sounds like a forgotten metal album from 1983, doesn’t it? Instead it’s this deranged indie horror flick directed by Marc-Andre Samson. Not a household name exactly, but man, he knows how to mess with your head. You’ll see some familiar faces too – Walter Peña plays the exorcist-turned-psych patient. Don’t know him? Neither did I. But he’s weirdly convincing… like he actually spent a night in Vänersborg’s gamla mentalsjukhus.

Pacing like molasses but still gripping somehow

The film takes place in the ‘70s—which is fun if you’re into flared jeans and wood paneling—but mostly you’re stuck inside this dusty house with a guy who’s either battling demons or just not taking his meds. It gets super claustrophobic, like being trapped in your mormor’s root cellar with a dead cat and a flickering lightbulb.

The tone reminded me of when I watched Tobe Hooper’s “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre” on VHS at my cousin’s house back in ’92. We were 13, eating Ahlgrens bilar and trying to act cool, but I’m pretty sure I peed myself a little. Same sweaty paranoia.

Pretentious or powerful? Maybe both.

I’ll be honest – parts of it felt artsy just for the sake of being artsy. Long shots of candles burning, weird mumbling in Latin, a priest who might be a ghost or just bad at showing up on time. But something about the film sticks. Like a splinter you can’t get out. Gross, yeah—but true.

So yeah. Not for everyone. But if your idea of a good night is watching mentally unstable dudes hallucinate Satan in a rubber mask… välkommen.

watch the full movie on CinemaOneMovies on YouTube

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