Film Fests
Brooklyn Horror Film Festival 2025: ‘Slayed’ LGBTQ+ Shorts Block
As someone who has been attending the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival annually since 2017, I can comfortably say that the ‘Slayed’ LGBTQ+ shorts block is a true highlight. Horror Press was honored to once again sponsor the block for the 2025 edition of the festival, elevating some of the very best that queer horror has to offer.
This year’s shorts represented a vast diversity of gender identities and sexualities, and the role of intersectionality in shaping a person’s lived experience. They managed to be funny, sexy, beautiful, heartbreaking, and triumphant in turns—and plenty scary, too.
If you couldn’t make it to the screening, here’s a quick recap. Consider it a call to action to prioritize the ‘Slayed’ programming at next year’s fest!
Long Pork (Dir. Iris Dukatt)
The opening titles of writer-director Iris Dukatt’s Long Pork inform us that we are in post-Roe America (don’t I know it). But our currently dystopian hellscape has been taken up a notch, with state propaganda posters plastering the exterior walls of an upscale steakhouse informing us that we need to “Protect the child, forfeit the vessel.” Inside, the head chef (Lena Headey) seizes the opportunity to avenge her daughter, a victim of this extreme pro-life regime, when the smug, hypocritical Chancellor of Righteousness (Marc Menchaca) walks through her doors.
Deliciously cathartic, Long Pork’s master stroke is in its portrayal of a pregnant trans-masc kitchen worker and the solidarity of the women around them. It’s a powerful reminder that queer and gender non-conforming people are often equally (if not more) vulnerable to the kind of oppression that targets cisgender women, and that standing together is the best way to defend ourselves and our communities against those who seek to destroy us. Even if we have to eat them.
Are You Fucking Kidding Me?! (Dir. Zen Pace)
“We’re all clowns in the hospitality industry,” writer and star Zachary Solomon said of their short film Are You Fucking Kidding Me?! during the Q&A at Brooklyn Horror Film Festival. In it, they play Jordyn, a struggling birthday party clown dealing with bitchy clients, a fellow performer throwing around queer slurs, and an empty bank account, all while his phone rings off the hook, informing him that his ailing mother has taken a turn for the worse. A mean right hook from an entitled kid and an abusive sexual encounter with the dad finally push Jordyn over the edge, leading to a bloody climax that left the person next to me audibly praying for Jordyn to murder the child next.
He doesn’t, leaving Are You Fucking Kidding Me?! more tragicomedy than outright cathartic horror. Director Zen Pace uses shots through the eyes of Jordyn’s humiliating pig costume to put the viewer in his shoes, but many queer people will already be very familiar with the situation he’s in, forced to debase himself just to make ends meet, any art he might have produced drowned out by the screams of unappreciative little brats.
She Devil (Dir. Allie Perison)
Being a butch woman in hyper-feminine spaces can be uncomfortable. Director Allie Perison amps up the discomfort to an eleven in She Devil, a short film following butch Gemma (Paula Andrea Placido) as she accompanies her femme girlfriend, Mae (Phoebe Voss), to a friend’s breakup party. This is Gemma’s first time meeting Mae’s friends, and she’s alarmed to learn that the group forced the breakup because they distrusted the boyfriend, seemingly without cause. When they realize that Gemma isn’t entirely on their side, the women quickly turn on her, using her as a stand-in for the ex to express all their rage and distrust.
Co-written by Perison and Matt Almquist, She Devil is a chilling examination of weaponized femininity and how it can harm gender-nonconforming women. “I would do anything for my femmes,” one character expresses, pointedly excluding the decidedly unfeminine Gemma. The script also cleverly plays on viewers’ biases, leaving us to reflect on whose side of the story we believe when relationships sour.
Last Call (Dir. Winnie Cheung)
Winner of Best Short Film at this year’s festival, director Winnie Cheung’s Last Call is a dreamy, drug-fueled ride into the psyche. Less a narrative film and more a vivid emotional landscape lit by a lotus-flower sun, the short follows a rebellious motorcyclist (Celia Au) who indulges in her worst vices night after night in an attempt to outrun the seductive serpent woman (Matilda Sakamoto) in her mind. But a high-speed crash forces a collision, triggering a journey of transformation and desire.
Last Call is cut through with moments of stark body horror like a forked tongue slithering from a wound. Paired seamlessly with sumptuous acid-trip landscapes and a triumphant performance from Au, it all makes for one of the most unique—and uniquely beautiful—films of the fest.
Tal 탈 (Dir. Charlie Gillette)
Not all queer stories have a happy ending. From director Charlie Gillette and writer Wesley Han, Tal is a quietly devastating short about the crushing expectations of immigrant parents and the feeling that you need to hide your true self to be successful, or at least make others happy.
Han stars in Tal as Gabriel, a young associate at a prestigious New York City law firm. He’s tried to put his artistic dreams behind him, but he can’t let them go entirely, keeping a neutral mask (a tool used to train actors in movement by hiding their expression) in the desk drawer of his cubicle. As he pulls a grueling all-nighter for his demanding boss and fields worried phone calls from his mother, he finds himself struggling to suppress his feelings for his kind coworker (Barton Cowperthwaite)—and running from a demon wearing his mask. Sadly, Gabriel can’t outrun his demons or confront his desires, leading to an ending that will sit with you long after the credits roll.
Consume (Dir. Aliyah Knight)
The Nitehawk Cinema’s projector broke in the middle of Aliyah Knight’s Consume, but the highest praise I can give the film is to say that I was gutted to miss a single moment of it. From what I did see, the short follows a young woman in a religious household who is struggling to suppress her desires. A little sexy, a little sapphic, and very bloody, it left me hungry for more—a must-watch if I can catch it in full in the future!
Blood Boys (Dir. Jordan Hahn)
When it comes to the topic of blood donation, the shadow of the AIDs crisis still hangs over the gay male community. Writer-director Jordan Hahn’s Blood Boys reframes blood sharing between queer men as a sexy competitive sport, one that fuels toxic masculinity and gets in the way of genuine intimacy.
Based on the real phenomena of creepy old rich men getting blood transfusions from young donors in an attempt to live forever (or at least reverse the effects of aging), Blood Boys follows buff boy Sam (BooBoo Stewart) as he competes to be a billionaire’s personal blood bag. If he wants the job and the perks that may come with it, he’ll have to beat out the current bloodletting champ, Charlie (Damian Joseph Quinn). Hahn contrasts the cold sterility of the clinic with hot skin shining with sweat, plunging needles into swollen veins in a way that is both wince-inducing and undeniably, disturbingly erotic.
The Dysphoria (Dir. Kylie Aoibheann)
With access to affordable gender-affirming care getting more limited by the day, writer-director Kylie Aoibheann’s playful short The Dysphoria packs a surprisingly hefty punch. In it, Alice (Eva Rees), unable to afford a procedure, turns to ancient rituals in an attempt to make her body reflect her true identity. Unfortunately, her boyfriend Tyler (Adam White) not only won’t take the ritual seriously, but wants to dissuade Alice from getting the surgery at all.
The Dysphoria elegantly sidesteps obvious punchlines, instead driving toward a conclusion that is as cathartic as it is amusing. With some great practical gore and a standout performance from Rees, it’s a fun take on a serious issue—and the perfect way to close out the ‘Slayed’ shorts block for another year.
Haunted house stories are a staple in the horror genre. But it’s not often that a haunted house film digs its way under your skin and stays there long after the credits roll. Enter Recluse, celebrating its world premiere at the 2026 Tribeca Film Festival.
A Disturbing Return Home Fuels Recluse’s Story
Joan Wyatt, a young and troubled audio engineer, is called back to her childhood home following a bizarre accident in which her father, the famous artist Lawrence Wyatt, was engulfed in flames and left in critical condition. Joan has been estranged from her father for quite some time, so when his longtime housekeeper Lydia leaves a voicemail telling her that he likely doesn’t have a lot of time left, she ignores it. But then Lawrence himself calls, telling Joan that he’s been seeing her mother—who disappeared when Joan was a child—around the house.
Joan arrives to find Lydia armed with a crossbow to ward off Lawrence’s obsessive fans. Her father is bed-bound with severe burns, and is being cared for by a hired nurse around Joan’s age named Emily. Lawrence, who notoriously experimented with psychedelics and occult practices during his career, is barely coherent and keeps his face concealed underneath a crude plaster mask. He keeps asking about his “little spider.” It’s disturbing and deeply upsetting, especially since Joan already has a lifetime of trauma associated with the house. Now that she’s back, she begins to suspect that these “ghosts” aren’t metaphorical. Lawrence was not a good man… but something even more sinister may be lurking in the house.
Henry Chaisson Reinvents the Haunted House Formula
Recluse, written and directed by Henry Chaisson, is a masterfully crafted debut feature that takes familiar elements of the haunted house genre—like a remote mansion as the setting, traumatic family secrets, and supernatural mischief—and twists them into something fresh and, well, twisted.
Sasha Frolova Leads an Exceptional Ensemble Cast
Sasha Frolova stars as Joan, delivering a performance that is both believable and compelling. She’s easy to root for throughout the film, especially as she contends with her father’s unwaveringly loyal housekeeper Lydia, brilliantly played by Toby Poser. Mia Vallet’s portrayal of Emily is also noteworthy, commanding attention from her first appearance all the way to the end. Kimball Farley plays Lydia’s son and Joan’s friend Todd with the perfect balance of levity and tension. Frankie Seratch is enjoyable to watch as the opportunistic nepo baby art dealer Tom. Rounding out the cast is Xander Berkeley as Lawrence; even from behind a mask, his performance is intense and chilling. Berkeley even provided some of his own art to be used in the film.
Sound Design and Cinematography Create Unrelenting Terror
The cast is far from the film’s only strength, though. Sound design by Matthew Rollins will have you death-gripping your seat in the best way, and serves as an integral part of the story itself. Production designer Yulanda Yo-Rong Shieh and art director Ana María Kalvo absolutely nailed the set and made the Wyatt family mansion simultaneously sprawling and claustrophobic.
Finally, we have the beautiful and (appropriately) haunting cinematography by Bryce Holden, supported by the editing prowess of Nik Voytas, Josh Lobo, and Henry Chaisson. Not only did they maintain an air of unrelenting suspense throughout the entire film, but they also executed some of the most disturbing and bone-chilling jump scares I’ve seen in recent years.
Seriously: One of those jump scares made me feel physically ill. You’ll know it when you see it for yourself.
Recluse had its world premiere at Tribeca Film Festival 2026.
“I promise, no one’s leaving here smarter tonight,” laughs Frank from the stage as he kicks off Cabane à Sang for its 9th annual trash horror film festival. The programming delivers an eclectic mix of gory, comedic, and bizarre short films from around the globe to a dedicated audience of enthusiastic fans.
What Is Cabane à Sang? A Quebec-Born Underground Horror Festival
Cabane à Sang (which translated to English means “Blood shack”, a play on the Quebecois termphrase cabane à sucre / sugar shack) is a homegrown festival based in Hochelaga, a densely populated working class neighborhood on the east side of Montreal, Québec. For $18 (CA$), you can enjoy hours of meticulously curated madness. A can of local microbrew is $6, a can of soda is $2, and you are guaranteed to see some shit you’ve never seen before in your life.
“We want everyone to be able to come to the fest. Shows for $18 don’t really exist anymore,” insisted organizer Marc-Antoine in a franglais conversation between him, myself and Frank before Saturday’s “Keep It Weird” show (note: some quotes have been translated to English). Frank tells me about the festival’s early days as a road show. “It was a total fucking flop!” he laughs, but the branding was strong, so after taking a year off to regroup, the 2nd edition had people lining up early to attend, surprising even the organizers.
Photo Courtesy of Cabane à Sang
How Cabane à Sang Adapted During COVID and Found a Permanent Home
The pandemic forced the team to adapt again (Quebecers faced some of the harshest COVID restrictions in North America), and they ended up live streaming a jerry-rigged MTV-style projection screen to show the films while audiences participated in the chat. After moving around to a few locations and struggling with a host of technical difficulties, they landed at Productions Jeun’Est, an old church that’s since been turned into an event space. “This year is really next level,” says Marc-Antoine. “We need to highlight the tech crew here, who are just hallucinant (incredible),” as well as the venue, he continued, who’ve “really welcomed us and helped us out.”
This year’s edition features 5 evenings of madness spread out over two weekends. The first weekend hosted the events SCIF’HIGH (promising the “best and worst” of science fiction), RE-Animation (exploring a “wide range of animation styles”), and their signature event, Keep It Weird (a mix of “proudly off-putting short films”). The second weekend will feature Mixed Meats (an “unhinged mix of every corner of horror”) and their infamous 200$ or less film competition – the Party Pooper Spectacular (this year, the theme is Pizza Horror). A $20 virtual pass to the whole fest is available online for those with the misfortune of missing the in person experience.
Why Filmmakers and Fans Take This “Trash” Horror Festival Seriously
Despite the goofy themes, the team of ten-ish organizers take their roles seriously, and are thrilled to have landed in a venue that can give the films the respect they deserve. “Our setup is a bit punk, but I just think about the filmmakers,” insists Marc Antoine. “They put in so much work, it’s normal that we do them justice with a good screening.” Frank echoes this sentiment. “Some stuff [we get] is not necessarily gory or cheap or whatever. They’re just, like, oddities, and they deserve to be seen, you know? And tonight we’re going to see some of them!”
People are already showing up when I arrive an hour early to Saturday’s show (unheard of in a city like Montreal, where showing up 45 min after doors open is the norm). The vibes stay immaculate, thanks to the team’s guiding motto: Don’t be an asshole. “Like legit, this is our only fucking rule here,” laughs Frank, and it applies to everyone, including the filmmakers. “I think we all love this project because it allows us to showcase stuff that we personally like and that we don’t see anywhere else,” says Marc-Antoine.
‘Dom’s Spaghetti’ Courtesy of Cabane à Sang
Weird, Gross, and Brilliant: Inside Cabane à Sang’s Most Bizarre Short Films
True to their words, the evening’s programming features some truly mind bending films, grouped together under ‘themes’ like ‘films that feature bread’ or ‘films that start with the letter D’. For every serious film about war or depression, there are five that are totally absurd. (Frank assures me that they’ve got “plenty of movies with dicks and poop and stuff like that!”) There’s the lesbian eldritch love story inspired by The Thing (The Fling), and there’s a meat-witch orgy movie (Plant Mom). One film is simply about a haunted bidet (Bidet), another features every cinematic iteration of Vin Diesel (Dom’s Spaghetti). Then there’s the mixed media movie Dog Shit, described perfectly as “parfum de caca, marteau dans les couilles” (I’ll leave you all to translate that one yourselves).
As the evening wraps up, Frank reminds the audience to return the following week, before yelling “Shout out bébé Jésus!” to enthusiastic applause, given that we are all sitting in a church. “Over the years, people have come from all over, from Abitibi, from the US,” Marc-Antoine tells me. “Ya, they fly in!!” adds Frank, “we don’t have the money to fucking pay for their flights!” Marc-Antoine continues, saying, “that shows that this really connects with people, locally, yes, but people all over are moved by what we’re doing. We’re going up against some big machines, some big productions, but we’re able to connect with people all the same.”
Cabane à Sang Proves That Micro-Budget Horror is More Important Than Ever
“People are fed up also, and I don’t want to get into the whole fucking AI thing,” Frank adds, “but I think a lot of people are irritated about it. We’re sitting in a great position right now.” When talking about the upcoming film competition on May 9th, I learned that they’ve got 22 unique micro budget works lined up, with an additional slate of films that will soon be on their streaming site, Caban à Sang TV. “AI cannot fucking make this shit up,” Frank says. “This is honest, this is real.”
