Charlie Robb’s Loner (2025) drops a lonely, deeply unreliable vlogger into the Northumbrian woods and lets social-media fakery collide with something that may be older, hungrier and considerably less interested in Wi-Fi. FolknHell asks whether this is folk horror, horror-comedy, or folk horror about folk horror.

This week FolknHell heads into the Northumbrian woods with Loner (2025), Charlie Robb’s found-footage horror built around Angus, an aspiring influencer whose wilderness retreat very quickly exposes the gap between the man he performs online and the man actually standing in the trees.

There is plenty to enjoy before the horror properly gets its boots muddy: fake fishing, emergency coffee supplies, hopeless survival skills and an influencer persona held together with optimism, denial and supermarket provisions. Then the woods start taking things from him. A terrified woman appears. Strange white stones, bones, a folklore book and a barely glimpsed presence push the film towards something much stranger.

The argument becomes the episode. Is Angus encountering a genuine forest deity that demands sacrifice? Is he using folklore to construct an excuse for what he has done? Or does the film deliberately leave both possibilities breathing down each other’s necks?

That ambiguity carries straight into the folk horror question. The place works. The outsider works. The belief system is much shakier. By the end, the phrase that sticks is "meta folk horror". Not straightforward folk horror so much as a film using folk horror itself as part of its story about storytelling, isolation and self-invention.

Loner is not comfortably traditional folk horror, but it is absolutely worth a folk horror conversation. Its Northumbrian landscape, outsider structure and folklore machinery pull strongly in that direction, while its unreliable narrator keeps threatening to reveal the whole thing as fabrication. Charlie Robb’s performance does much of the heavy lifting, and the film gets more interesting the longer the argument goes on.

• Andy Davidson: 8/10
• Dave Houghton: 6/10
• David Hall: 6.5/10

• YouTube episode: [Add link]
• FolknHell Film Page: [Add link]
• FolknHell Transcript Page: [Add link]
• TMDb: https://www.themoviedb.org/movie/1489999-loner/reviews?language=en-GB
• Rotten Tomatoes: https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/loner_2025
• IMDb: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt33298831/

Spoilers throughout, including discussion of death, blood, cannibalism, mental health, self-delusion and graphic meat imagery.

Folknhell is the folk horror podcast where Andy Davidson, Dave Houghton and David Hall dig into strange cinema, argue about whether it really counts as folk horror, and score every film out of 30.

Add your own score and comments about the films at https://www.folknhell.com/scores

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Mark Jenkin’s Rose of Nevada gives FolknHell a lost fishing boat, a thirty-year time slip, suspiciously dead fish and a surprisingly strong case for Cornish folk horror. Andy, David and Dave agree on the film. The timeline is another matter entirely.

Spoilers throughout. Watch the film first unless you fancy sailing directly into the temporal fog.

Episode 30 takes Andy Davidson, David Hall and Dave Houghton back to Cornwall for Mark Jenkin’s Rose of Nevada (2026), a film in which a missing fishing boat returns after thirty years and immediately makes time everybody’s problem.

With the speakers now properly attributed, the argument becomes even better. Andy brings his own Cornish background to the film’s portrait of fishing communities, second homes and local decline. Dave digs into the 16mm photography, square frames, static land and seasick movement at sea. David becomes increasingly convinced that tiny physical details, circular falls and a pile of very dead fish are telling us more than they first appear to be.

Then comes the folk horror question. FolknHell’s current test is place, belief and the stranger. Rose of Nevada has all three, although Dave quite reasonably asks whether existential dread really makes it horror. Andy’s answer: absolutely.

We also get Mogi as the Ancient Mariner, a pub that suddenly comes back to life, one magnificent hole in a roof, Mark Jenkin’s silent 27-second filming method and a continuity error involving a door that is promptly reclassified as a time slip.

Folk horror. Not pagan sacrifice or occult ritual, but a distinct Cornish place, a community sustained by belief and loss, outsiders entering an inherited world, and existential horror generated by time, identity and the return of a past that should have stayed past.

• Dave Houghton: 9/10
• Andy Davidson: 10/10
• David Hall: 10/10
• Total: 29/30

Folknhell is the folk horror podcast where Andy Davidson, Dave Houghton and David Hall dig into strange cinema, argue about whether it really counts as folk horror, and score every film out of 30.

Add your own score and comments about the films at https://www.folknhell.com/scores

Find us on the socials:

• YouTube: @folknhell
• Facebook: FolknHell
• X: @FolknHell
• Bluesky: FolknHell

See acast.com/privacy for info.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

FolknHell tackles Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), its still-shocking violence, suspicious barbecue and surprisingly solid claim to American folk horror. Also, this is Take Two because somebody forgot to press record.

Some films age gracefully. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) still looks as though it has been left in the Texas sun beside a sack of bones, and that is very much a compliment.

In Episode 29, Andy Davidson, David Hall and Dave Houghton revisit Tobe Hooper’s horror landmark and ask why its grainy, documentary-style nightmare remains so brutally effective more than fifty years later. The discussion gets into the first hammer blow, the meat-hook sequence, Marilyn Burns finding several entirely new levels of screaming, and Gunnar Hansen giving Leatherface a strange flicker of pathos beneath the mask.

Then comes the FolknHell question: is this really folk horror? The answer involves an isolated patch of land, a family with its own inherited rituals, bone totems, slaughterhouse traditions and a group of outsiders who discover that the local rules include becoming barbecue.

There is also a comparison with House of 1000 Corpses, a debate over whether the film refuses to glorify violence or is gleefully sadistic, and the mystery of a missing sound effect that one host had apparently been carrying in his head for decades.

This is also the second attempt at recording the episode. The first version, which nobody recorded, was obviously the greatest podcast ever made.

Spoilers throughout. Watch the film first if you would rather enter the farmhouse without knowing exactly where the hooks are.

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is American folk horror as well as a proto-slasher. The isolated landscape, closed family community, inherited slaughterhouse customs, ritualised bones and doomed outsiders fit the genre with alarming neatness. It is not an enjoyable film in the cosy sense, but it remains an essential and astonishingly powerful horror experience.

FolknHell Score

25 out of 30

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Folknhell is the folk horror podcast where Andy Davidson, Dave Houghton and David Hall dig into strange cinema, argue about whether it really counts as folk horror, and score every film out of 30.

Add your own score and comments about the films at https://www.folknhell.com/scores

Find us on the socials:

• YouTube: @folknhell
• Facebook: FolknHell
• X: @FolknHell
• Bluesky: FolknHell

See acast.com/privacy for info.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.