This time of year always finds us re-evaluating ourselves, our lives and our bonds. Sometimes your journey ends with folks, sometimes your friends gossip about you and you have to cut ties or sometimes they’re murderous pariahs or pitiful cowards in the face of danger and it’s kill or be killed. It be like that sometimes.

“You know, in the old days, if a witch betrayed her coven, they would kill her.” – Nancy Downs, The Craft (1996)

There something to be said about those that can seamlessly maintain life long bonds with childhood friends with little to no trouble. Not a fight, nor bang nor whimper. To me, these are the exception, because we travel through millions of different personalities, likes, dislikes and dispositions and it’s hard for everyone to come along for the ride to all of them and stay there through it all. Friendships in horror cinema, rather, seem to take on a whole new level of thought-to-be firm footing, of assumed tolerance and respect and most times deep-seeded hate. So put on your half heart BFF necklace and lace up your friendship bracelet as we explore the dissolution of horror camaraderie at its finest.

One of my most visceral watches in 2018 was The Ritual. We begin with Luke (Rafe Spall), Phil (Luke Arsher Ali), Hutch (Robert James-Collier), Dom (Sam Troughton) and Robert (Paul Reid) planning their next European vacation whist in a pub. Newly married Rob suggests Sweden, much to the chagrin of the rest of the group. At a routine stop at the liquor store, things turn dire quickly as Rob is bludgeoned to death by robbers as Luke stays hidden, paralyzed by fear. Six months after Rob’s death, the rest of the gang travel to Sweden to honor him and pour out a little liquor for their homie and press on into the forests of Sarek National Park.

Phew! The emotional baggage here carries a serious amount of heft at the front end. Losing a close friend sends ripples through your own life and sparks an unending thought process of your own mortality as well as creating a pool of anger focused within and at those around you who could’ve perhaps influenced the situation another way. And the latter is exactly what we have bubbling underneath the surface. Tensions are high at this point, and they begin to realize that they may be lost in a symbol-heavy and terrifying forest and are trapped in a desolate and haunting cabin after switching routes, causing a strange purge of the psyche in each man. Luke has horrifying nightmares and wakes with punctures in his chest, Phil is found in the attic praying to a headless statue in the nude, Dom has horrible hallucinations and Hutch, well we’ll get to Hutch in a moment. The crew (wisely) decide to leave the cabin and spend the night in a clearing. Waking to screams, Luke bolts out of his tent to find Hutch’s tent askew and empty with no sign of him. In the morning, Phil, Luke and Dom continue the search and find Hutch impaled high up in branches. Insanely scared beyond belief, the gang vows to keep moving without going back for their supplies. And it’s within this tension that what’s really real inside comes out and works as a driver to push the story forward.

Luke’s apprehension is seen as causing the death of his friend. Had he intervened, Rob would still be alive. Alive to join them on this expedition, alive at home with his bride. It’s the maybe’s of what could have and should have been. And it’s a constant struggle for Luke who feels solely responsible, yet outwardly seems to have moved on a little too soon for the rest of the crew and is called out by Dom who painfully chides him on his cowardice in the robbery. It’s here where the friendship starts to show it’s wear at the seams. And this is the part of the film I love because not only have we exorcised the anguish: Dom saying the quiet part out loud (finally!) to Luke is what everyone had been thinking. But it’s almost a “he without sin cast the first stone” type deal going forward as each man’s experience in the cabin and in the forest whittles it down to the two with the most to resolve, Dom and Luke. The ending is really their moment. The terseness unfolds to self-sacrifice for the other in the name of love as the villagers of an unknown town descend upon them for ritual slaughter as a gift to the Jötunn, a conjurer of illusion in Norse mythology and absolutely one of the most kick-ass practical monsters I’ve seen in a horror movie in ages.

I will say the ending is a bit ambiguous here, leaving the audience to glean what they will about Luke’s fate, his stance and his future as the last man standing and within this final girl status, can he break free from the trauma that had him bouncing between fantasy and reality this entire trip? Not likely.

I was a very lucky girl to have had Scream, The Craft and From Dusk ‘Til Dawn come out the year I graduated high school. My horror heart was proudly beating, and I got to see a Black Witch on screen! Are you kidding me?? The way I clapped. Growing up within the stories of my mother’s family’s heritage of (and secretly practicing as a) Curandera(s), I had never seen something like this, that gave girls the power to rebel, to change, to invoke and to take charge in a way other than “Rocking the Vote” or being a 1994 Woodstock attendee. So let’s get into it!

The setting: A Catholic school in Los Angeles. The main character: Sarah Bailey (Robin Tunney). The reception: cool…..at first. She meets some outcast girls known to be “witches”: Nancy (Fairuza Balk), Rochelle (Rachel True), and Bonnie (Neve Campbell, having a banner year), but High School Jock Chris, that she has a crush on, (Skeet Ulrich, having a banner year as well, yada yada) makes up lies about sleeping with her, pushing her further into the circle of found family with the other girls. But clearly we’ve got some issues already here.

First up, Nancy. It’s a pretty proven trope that bullies bully because they get bullied. Take John Bender from The Breakfast Club as he breaks down his father’s hair trigger and subsequent abuse. Nancy’s in a bit of the same boat – Alcoholic mother and abusive stepfather don’t make for much of a happy home and Nancy’s vulnerabilities take center stage here. Rochelle, gifted athlete and the only Brown girl of the group, is a victim of racial epithets by the A-group Allstar, popular girl Laura Lizzie (Christine Taylor). Introvert Bonnie (who’s dress feels like an homage to Ally Sheedy’s Allison in The Breakfast Club, call me old or dated but the similarities are too much here) has burn scars on her back so severe her doctors believe they will never heal. and Sarah, recovering months later after a suicide attempt is a fish out of water in a new school. We’ve got a perfect storm of insecurity to prey on and prey on they do as the girls realize that four makes waves, makes death, and makes a bunch of shit happen.

The catalyst is the fact that Sarah is the “natural witch.” It’s in her blood, much to the balk (see what I did there) of Nancy who fancies herself the ring leader and the only true believer of Manon, the Odin-adjacent creator cat daddy of all things, a being that oversees humanity with both malevolent and benevolent actions at will, so….sounds fun. Friendships between young women aren’t always copasetic, there’s always a low rumbling of insecurity, of competition, of dislike or hate. There’s also that pesky lack of control over another human that won’t bend to your will. In Sarah’s case, she wants to break free of the girls, who’ve gotten out of control. The spells are backfiring, and folks are dying – shit’s gettin’ real, so it’s no wonder Sarah’s in escape mode. But Nancy ain’t havin’ it. And in the final showdown, the girls frame it as a suicide, slitting Sarah’s wrists with magic and slowly waiting for her to die. But taadaaa – Sarah, with the spirit help of long-lineage old witch mom (of course), breaks free of the curse and wreaks havoc on the girls. And as Nancy gets sent to the psychiatric ward in the aftermath, Bonnie and Rochelle play nice or try to until Sarah summons a branch to nearly miss their pretty lil’ heads.

Point blank period – kids can be fucking mean and with all the power in the world it still comes down to who’s gonna get to be Queen Bitch. Is it worth it? Some kids would say, “hell yeah!”

All hail tense relationships and “Why the fuck is she here?” energy!!

Bodies, Bodies, Bodies was a fucking blast. A modern and candy coated take on the whodunnit and we’re all the better for having bought a ticket.

We start off with Sophie (Amandla Steinberg) professing her love for her Eastern European girlfriend Bee (Maria Bakalova) ahead of their jaunt to Sophie’s rich friend’s remote family mansion for a hurricane party. As the story unfolds, Sophie’s got a past, and its clear upon her arrival that NO ONE expected her to show let alone bring a plus one, but here we are. She’s greeted warmly by Alice (Rachel Sennott), a new to the game podcaster joined by her Bumble match, the much older Greg (Lee Pace – eyebrow wiggle). Errant friend Max is missing, we’re not sure why as of yet but not as much as a warm reception from David (Pete Davidson), Jordan (Myha’la Herrold) or Emma (Chase Sui Wonders), but we’ll get to why in a bit. The storm is about to rage and to celebrate, Greg stalks into the mansion to retrieve a bottle of champagne, only to open it with a saber found on the wall in the home. An epic and fancy looking feat – purely pissing off David. How dare you out-cool him in his own home??

Inside we go and as the rain furies on, Sophie asks the group if they’re in for playing Bodies, Bodies, Bodies – a staunch mystery with what appears to be a crying aftermath from Emma per usual. The crew is all in and the game is on – who’s the “killer”, who’s the “prey”? The game quickly goes sour as Greg and David have a machismo-off and descend to their respective sleep quarters of the house but not before an embarrassing disclosure from Alice regarding Emma and David’s bedroom habits or lack thereof and the admission of Max’s love for Emma (the reason for his disappearance). The power goes out (of course it does) and the remaining ladies scramble for a power source. Bee, stumbling around in the dark notices David outside with his throat slashed clinging to the French doors. As the other ladies scramble in, it sets off a wicked chain of events of mistrust, a fight for survival and the ever trusty “bitch I never liked you” type energy.

To run for help, they head to Sophie’s car (the only car there for some reason) to no avail, the battery is dead, but a bit of dull foreshadowing could’ve told you that was going to happen. Next, they check who’s missing. Hot Greg – who is now assumed to be the killer. Now we get down to criticizing one another’s poor choices in a mate, how little we know, how fast we’re willing to move into relationship status. It’s all a deep insult masked by fear of the unknown killer, but what we begin to see is how intolerant these women are of each other’s mild shortcomings. But let’s continue.

We find Greg, meditating with an LED mask on per usual, as the women take a nosedive into finding the killer territory and dissect all the ways he could be. Greg, naturally on the defensive explains he had nothing to do with it. Bee strikes him with a kettlebell, a double tap (someone’s seen Zombieland) for good measure. Hot Greg is dead and now things really get cooking! Literally me!

As tension grows and the bodies start drop (Poor muscle relaxer drunk Emma, we hardly knew ye), the truth comes seeping out. Jordan hates Alice’s podcast with a passion, Alice thinks the world of Jordan, that’s why she’s the center of her podcast, although Jordan is a stone cold bitch that everyone hates. Sophie is a sociopathic and recovering drug addict that Jordan is still in love with, Sophie also a cheater, as Bee found out (these yellow thongs ain’t mine!) while being cast out earlier for being not so forth coming about her own past, and Bee, now petrified of all of them, seeks to only survive.

Talk about a house of cards type friendship. But watching this film made me wonder a few things. As someone who’s life is changing – the necessity to keep up the friendships of old that have grown stale no longer concerns me. People flex in and out of your life and that’s ok. Is it the stranglehold of having someone you can’t stand in your life to be there rather than go it alone? Is it the fact that you like 20% of the person and 80% you groan about to anyone who’ll listen? Holding up the mirror to modern adults friendships via these films finds a bleak landscape for me personally. So if we’re ever in a do or die situation – don’t tell me how much you hate me, just give me the courtesy of a double tap.