In this chilling episode of FolknHell, Andy, Dave, and David descend into the Dutch peatlands for a tense dissection of Moloch (2022), the atmospheric folk horror by Nico van den Brink. Set on the misty edge of a bog, Moloch follows Beatrix and her family as ancient bodies are unearthed around their isolated home—and something far older and far more malevolent stirs beneath the surface.

What begins with a traumatic childhood memory of a grandmother’s murder spirals into full-blown dread as archaeological digs awaken a generational curse tied to the ancient deity Moloch. Our hosts discuss the film’s rich folk horror DNA—isolated rural settings, ancestral guilt, whispers from the earth—blended with surprisingly effective slasher elements and spine-jangling jump scares.

The trio delve into the film’s use of body horror, the powerful folkloric framing of female sacrifice and possession, and the symbolic role of the bog as both graveyard and incubator of past sins. They note the film’s clever exposition through a school play, revealing the tale of Fika, a martyred figure who curses her bloodline after thwarting Moloch’s will—and whose spirit persists by inhabiting women of her lineage. Cue multiple unsettling possessions, grim ritual murders, and a harrowing ending that pulls no punches.

Despite its moments of over-explanation and an arguably unnecessary amount of vomiting (four scenes, if you're counting), Moloch earns praise for its relentless pacing, oppressive atmosphere, and beautifully bleak finale. It’s a film that doesn’t let you off the hook—just when you think it’s all wrapped up, it delivers a final blow that reframes everything.

The gang rate Moloch a solid 21.5 out of 30, with special commendation for its commitment to tone, craftsmanship, and horror grounded in folklore. They firmly agree: this is a folk horror film, and a bloody good one at that.

Enjoyed this episode? Follow FolknHell for fresh folk-horror deep dives. Leave us a rating, share your favourite nightmare, and join the cult on Instagram @FolknHell.

Full transcripts, show notes folkandhell.com.

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

Grief loops, dead roosters, and a white-suited psycho: the lads tackle Koko-di Koko-da and argue whether made-up myths count as folk horror, or just chicken-fuelled existential dread.

What do you get when you hand a grief-stricken Scandi loop-nightmare of a film to three British blokes obsessed with folk horror taxonomy? A very long conversation about grief, chickens, and whether your bollocks can be haunted. This week on Folk ’n’ Hell, Andy, Dave H. and David dive headfirst into the strange, cyclical misery of Koko-di Koko-da—a 2019 Swedish-Danish oddity that might be a fairy tale, might be a psychological horror, and might be (but might not be) folk horror. Let the shouting commence.

Here’s the setup: a grieving couple go camping. That’s it. They park up by a forest clearing and get stuck in a surreal time loop, reliving the same brutal ambush by three grotesque fairytale figures—a white-suited dandy, a terrifying crone with electroshock hair, and a lumbering brute with a dog (dead or not, depending on the loop). It’s a film about trauma, avoidance, and coping… mostly by running away in your pants.

Naturally, the gang spend the first ten minutes arguing about the correct pronunciation of the title. Then it’s straight into the big questions: is it folk horror if the nursery rhyme is made up? If the forest isn’t really haunted? If the only community is a bickering couple and three walking Jungian archetypes with murder on their minds? Andy thinks it’s folk horror—sort of. Dave H. definitely doesn’t. David just wants someone to explain the shadow-puppet interludes and the dog that’s always been dead.

But while the episode is packed with tangent-fuelled silliness (seafood pizza rage, Right to Roam envy, an unexpected book plug for The Book of Trespass), there’s something serious under the surface. Koko-di Koko-da hits a nerve—not through gore or shocks, but through the way it portrays grief as relentless, looping, and oddly theatrical. Each time the couple wake up, they’re further apart. The husband grows more aware, but also more useless. The wife, despite being murdered repeatedly, has to do most of the emotional heavy lifting. And the hosts—surprisingly for a trio who once spent twenty minutes debating scarecrow taxonomy—actually sit in that discomfort for a bit.

There’s admiration, too, for how Johannes Nyholm pulls off so much with so little. Guerrilla day-for-night shooting, tight camerawork (often literally shot from the backseat), and a weirdly catchy refrain about a dead rooster build an atmosphere that’s uniquely Scandinavian: bleak, bonkers, but beautiful. Compared with other low-budget Nordic chillers like Moloch, this one lingers.

Scoring sparks the usual chaos. Dave H. calls it a “six” and praises the nursery rhyme but wasn’t fussed about the couple’s emotional journey. David gives it a “strong seven” for believability and auteur ambition—despite dinging it for its fright factor. Andy, visibly vibrating, tries to give it a “nine” before settling on a more sensible “eight,” saying it disturbed him more than it scared him, which for him is basically a rave review.

So: is it folk horror? Official ruling: sort of. The setting’s invented, the myth’s personal, the characters isolated only by their own minds. But it hits enough of the Folk ’n’ Hell checklist to count—just not at the bullseye. It’s folk horror with an asterisk. Asterisk horror, if you will.

Whether you’ve seen Koko-di Koko-da or not, this episode’s a doozy: wild theories, genuine insight, and possibly the only podcast on Earth where someone says “shot right in the willy” while talking about grief metaphors. Stick it in your ears.

Enjoyed this episode? Follow FolknHell for fresh folk-horror deep dives. Leave us a rating, share your favourite nightmare, and join the cult on Instagram @FolknHell.

Full transcripts, show notes folkandhell.com.

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

Three film-obsessed friends watch deep-cut folk-horror, ask “is it really folk-horror and is it any good?”, then argue, spoil and score it out of 30. Come for the obscure movies, stay for the pub-banter exorcisms.

Subscribe… if you dare.

Enjoyed this episode? Follow FolknHell for fresh folk-horror deep dives. Leave us a rating, share your favourite nightmare, and join the cult on Instagram @FolknHell.

Full transcripts, show notes folkandhell.com.

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