2024 • United States of America
A silent cult, a forest full of flesh-eating burned people and a post-Rapture world where everyone appears to have taken a very firm position on chat. Azrael (2024) gives Folk ’n’ Hell plenty to chew over, even if some of it comes with the faint taste of tacked-on twig. In this episode, Andy Davidson, Dave Houghton and David Hall head into the woods with El Katz’s dialogue-light chase horror, written by Simon Barrett and starring Samantha Weaving. Azrael is fleeing a mute, religious survivalist community after the Rapture, pursued by both her former compatriots and the charred, hungry things that live in the surrounding forest. It is tense, scrappy, bloody and very committed to the idea that speaking is a sin, which is admittedly an awkward position for a podcast to encounter. “Well, it was a very tense horror movie, essentially a chase movie.” FolknHell host, Dave Houghton The hosts broadly agree that the film works best as a lean survival horror. Its strongest stretch is the opening, where the lack of dialogue, the sense of pursuit and the threat of the woods give it a genuinely taut, feral energy. David is especially gripped early on, while Andy finds himself more caught up in the visceral experience than he expected. Dave, meanwhile, keeps returning to the sense that this is less old rural dread and more American post-apocalyptic survivalism with biblical wallpaper.
And that, naturally, leads to the central Folk ’n’ Hell question: is Azrael actually folk horror? It has the ingredients at first glance: an isolated community, ritual sacrifice, a church at the centre of a rough encampment, creatures in the woods, buried spaces and a final image that wanders in carrying something small, goaty and not remotely reassuring. But for the hosts, the folk horror elements feel more like decoration than deep roots. The film borrows the costume, rattles the branches and lights the ritual candles, but it never quite convinces them that the horror is truly of the land, the past or a buried belief system.
So Azrael becomes a curious case: brisk, tense and admirably committed to telling most of its story without dialogue, but not a strong entry in the folk horror canon. More Mute Max than moss-covered myth.
Azrael is set after the Rapture, in a world where the faithful have apparently departed and those left behind are doing their best to make the end times even less sociable. Samantha Weaving plays Azrael, a young woman escaping a mute religious cult that has severed its own vocal cords to avoid the sin of speech.
She and her lover are quickly captured by members of this forest-dwelling community, who seem intent on offering them up to the burned, zombie-like creatures that roam the woods. Azrael repeatedly escapes, is pursued, captured again, and pulled back towards the cult’s scrappy settlement, where a pregnant woman in a church seems to hold the key to the community’s strange expectations. It is part chase film, part survival horror and part biblical fever dream with very poor prisoner management.
The hosts are pretty clear: Azrael gestures at folk horror, but does not quite become it. Andy lays out the usual Folk ’n’ Hell test: an isolated or rural community, a threat in and of the environment, and the return of something ancient or buried into modern life. On paper, Azrael seems to have the lot. There is a closed-off group in the woods, ritualised sacrifice, a church raised above the earth, strange creatures and enough rustling trees to make any folk horror fan sit up hopefully.
“It’s all there, but it’s all artificial. It’s all tacked on to a story.” FolknHell host, Andy Davidson
Andy’s frustration is that “it’s all there, but it’s all artificial. It’s all tacked on to a story.” Dave pushes back on the idea that the threat is properly “of the earth”, seeing the film more as a straightforward suspense chase horror with religious and survivalist elements. David agrees that the film misses the mark on the three folk horror counts, even while admitting that, as a tense horror film wearing folk horror clothes, it can still be enjoyable.
The verdict is that Azrael is folk horror adjacent at best. The final demonic baby business nods in the right direction, as do the sacrifices and the mute forest cult, but the deeper roots are missing. The film has branches, bark and some nasty things behind the trees, but not enough old soil.
- Silence as doctrine The cult’s decision to remove speech gives the film its most memorable hook. The hosts admire how much of the story is communicated without dialogue, even when the wider theology remains a bit wobbly.
- Post-Rapture survivalism Dave reads the film as very American in its survivalist texture: woods, weapons, camps, cars, petrol and a bluntly literal religious setup. The apocalypse has happened, but everyone still seems worryingly practical about transport.
- Ritual without roots There are sacrifices, humming captors, a church, a priestess-like pregnant woman and a buried coffin sequence. The problem is not the lack of ritual imagery, but that the hosts feel much of it has been applied rather than earned.
- The forest as threat The woods are tense, noisy and full of danger, especially when the burned ones arrive with their mysterious gusts of wind. Andy is not convinced the wind makes much sense, especially for creatures who are allegedly burned, but it does give the trees something dramatic to do.
- A chase film in folk horror clothing Again and again, the discussion returns to the same structure: Azrael runs, is caught, escapes, returns, and runs again. It is effective in bursts, but it also makes the film feel simpler and more mechanical than its religious imagery suggests.
- A protagonist who slips from sympathy The hosts begin with Azrael as the clear point of identification, but the ending muddies that. By the time Satanic infant business enters the church, even her satisfaction becomes another unanswered question.
The final score is 11 out of 30, which the hosts suggest may be their lowest yet. Dave and David both give Azrael a 3, largely because it is not really folk horror and, for all its tension, does not fully satisfy. Andy is more generous with a 5, giving credit to the film’s pace, its visceral momentum and the impressive fact that it tells a largely understandable story with almost no dialogue. “I gave it three because I thought it wasn’t that great and it wasn’t folk horror.” FolknHell host, Dave Houghton This is not a wholehearted recommendation, but nor is it a warning to flee the woods entirely. David makes the useful distinction: from a folk horror perspective, it falls short, but as a tense, cheap, lean action horror, there is still some enjoyment to be had. Know what you are walking into: less ancient rural dread, more brisk post-apocalyptic cult chase with a demonic baby at the end of the lane.
How each host rated this film