Reviews
‘Picnic at Hanging Rock’ (1975) Review: Cosmicism at Its Finest
I truly believe that no piece of media depicts the abject horror of cosmicism more than Peter Weir’s 1975 film Picnic at Hanging Rock. Cosmicism is a very specific kind of belief in how the universe functions, and one that sits at the center of the cosmic horror genre. H.P. Lovecraft is generally considered the author who codified its ideals throughout his body of work, though I’m always glad to say it seems the concept outgrew his confines of small-mindedness like many of the narratives that pay tribute to him.
What Is Cosmicism (And Why Does It Matter Here)?
A space-age not-quite-nihilist philosophy, it asserts that while humans have a place in the universe, they have a place the same way dust mites or harmless bacteria do. They are an infinitesimally small force, with no capacity to affect change on entities far, far, far larger than them. Not only are you not the center of the universe, but any attempts to try and center yourself are futile.
You aren’t simply on a rock floating through space, you’re falling in all directions through a sea of nothingness, being pushed around by the moving wake of some supermassive being that regards you as little more than an odd speck. And any attempts to understand that force that pushes you around, let alone affect it, isn’t just futile, it’s dangerous.
Picnic at Hanging Rock: Beyond Logic and Physics
If you haven’t seen the film, you might still be wondering what Picnic at Hanging Rock has to do with all this. It’s not exactly similar to the Cthulu mythos. After all, there are no weird fish people. There is no evil serial killer wizard living in the walls of your house. There are definitely no elder things or shoggoths lurking outside the camera’s lens. But what is there is somehow much more unnerving.
The film instead centers on the inexplicable disappearance of three schoolgirls, Miranda, Marion, and Irma, and their professor, Miss McCraw. Though at first glance it seems simple, their visit to Hanging Rock becomes a mystery that defies all logic. The trio of young girls hike the treacherous mountain, walking up into nothingness, and Miss McCraw follows them into oblivion.
What began as a nice outing on St. Valentine’s Day turns into a strange puzzle that tests all the people linked to the girls, emotionally and psychologically. An Australian Gothic horror that transcends the threats of the human body, of its bondage to logic and physics and biology, Picnic at Hanging Rock becomes a tale of the metaphysical, of forces more vast and much more concerning.
When the Setting Itself Is the Monster
And what is that force exactly? It’s never outright answered, of course, but it does have a face. And that very literal rock face is Hanging Rock itself. It’s a well-known geological formation in Australia, an imposing monument of sedimentary vastness that represents the ancient history of the continent. And Hanging Rock is one of my favorite rarities in a horror movie: a case of when the setting itself is the monster.
The way the nature around Hanging Rock erupts into this almost alien symphony of noise when Miranda unlatches the gate, and opens the girls’ paths to annihilation, is an unforgettable moment. The film is full of them thanks to the dreamlike nature of its writing, and it’s even more hypnotizing soundtrack by Gheorghe Zamfir and Bruce Smeaton.
The early monologue from Mrs. McCraw, portrayed by actress Vivean Grey, is probably the best example of how unknowable and alien the locale is. It’s one of the most subtly intimidating pieces of writing I’ve had the pleasure of hearing. She states so matter-of-factly how massive and odd and downright antediluvian the mount is; a 500-foot-tall, incredibly old structure, given an ominous amount of consciousness. She declares it’s been waiting a million years, just for them, as if they were drawn to the rock to be consumed.
Her brief time on screen is also just one of the many compelling performances on display here, headed most impressively by Anne-Louise Lambert as Miranda, Karen Robson as Irma, and an incredibly young John Jarratt as Albert. Yes, that horror legend John Jarratt, Wolf Creek’s very own Mick Taylor.
Picnic at Hanging Rock Is a Horror Movie Rich in Meaning
On a metatextual level, Picnic at Hanging Rock touches on a number of different themes, with the rigors of coming of age and the onset of womanhood being at the forefront. It’s not hard to read it as a story about young girls being forced to fall in line with societal expectations, forced to grow up too fast, and suffering gravely for it. Taking place at a boarding school in the countryside, and involving the presumed deaths of a group of girls, the conversation around the tragedy quickly turns sour. The film becomes as much about the elements of high society holding the investigation as it does the investigation itself.
There’s also a wonderful post-colonialist reading to be had of the film given the original significance of Hanging Rock for Australia’s Aboriginal peoples. The specter of predatory colonialism and the way it changed the landscape throughout the century adds a shade of darkness over an already dark mystery, and the script even touches on it. The reduction of a place of worship for the Aboriginals into a fleeting place of entertainment being the inciting incident adds another layer to the film’s mystery that is so fascinating to dive into. Doubly so when you take into account the film’s utilization of dream symbolism and its intersection with the Aboriginal religious mythology of the Dreaming.
Why Picnic at Hanging Rock Is a Must-Watch Cosmic Horror Film
The film is so highly rewatchable just for this, that you can get through it quite a few times and still enjoy it continuously unfolding into something new. If you could take or leave the low points of cosmic horror that is often beholden to a very dark fantasy mythos, but you still love the idea of human minds being rended into meaty confetti by being exposed to the unthinkable, then you will love Picnic at Hanging Rock. That is, if you like long haul, slow burn, atmospheric mysteries with a cerebral and haunting plot.
It’s very interesting when critics cover Part # of a franchise without having seen the previous entries. I’ve personally seen critics who flat-out say that Part 2 or 3 doesn’t make sense without having seen the previous film. And therein lies the problem: film critics who refuse to admit they haven’t seen EVERYTHING. But does the hard work rely solely on the film critic (or the general viewer)? Should a sequel (or third in a trilogy) drop in heavy context clues for someone who is just now tuning in? I think the answer falls somewhere between those points. Of the many reasons, that is one of the main reasons I was able to enjoy The Barn Part III so much. Let’s dig into it.
Some time ago, Pastor Josh Harper (Courtney Gains) assumed he had rid the world of evil. He was dead wrong. Well, hopefully just wrong. His nephew Kyle (Tristan Olsen) and friend Megan (Amanda Byrne) accidentally re-unleash the evil; Josh must attempt to vanquish it. Again. There’s just one big problem…the Fall Festival is going on, and damn near the entire town will be in attendance. What can go wrong?
Can You Review PT. 3 Without Seeing PTS. 1&2?
Before we really get into it, I think we should jump back to the point I was making in the intro. I have seen tons of posts, screenshots, and scenes from The Barn franchise over the years. For some reason, I’ve never gotten around to seeing the films. So there was a sort of internal struggle when deciding whether or not to cover The Barn Part III. Would I watch it just for fun? What if I didn’t like it? Sure, I could review the film on its own merits, disregarding moments that don’t make sense to a first-time viewer. But that felt disingenuous. After writing a weighty pros and cons list, I figured, what the hell. Let’s give it a watch! It turns out that was the right decision.
Co-writers Justin M. Seamen and Zane Hershberger do an excellent job of balancing fan service and, surprisingly, first-time viewers. There are definitely moments where I felt a bit lost, though I was able to put the pieces together based on context clues after sitting with the film for a few hours. By the time the credits rolled, I felt like I saw enough (as a first time viewing of the franchise) to understand how we got to this point in the franchise. Moreover, it made me more motivated than ever to go back and watch the first two films. If The Barn Part III is this gory, then I can only assume there’s a similar level of gore to the first two.
Strong Script, Stronger Kills
Hershberger and Seamen tell a tale that’s not overwhelmingly original; evil is raised and must be stopped by the good people. It’s a race against the clock, fast-paced creature feature/slasher. It’s hard to really reinvent the wheel there. And somehow, Herhshberger and Seamen manage to make you feel like you haven’t really seen anything like it before. Even during moments of slightly cheesy dialogue, the script’s tone stays beyond consistent that it just all feels right. To me, that feels very rare in this subgenre of film. Rather than being nothing but conduits for buckets of blood, the characters in The Barn Part III exist within their story purpose while still feeling fully fleshed out.
Much of The Barn Part III’s enjoyment comes from the delightful performances of the film’s lead cast. Courtney Gains takes the reins from Will Stout as Josh Harper, and Gains is wonderfully charming. Much of his screen time is shared with Night of the Comet’s Kelli Maroney, who is still an absolute blast to watch on the screen. But it’s one of The Barn Part III’s co-leads, Amanda Byrne, who steals the show. It’s hard to believe this film is Byrne’s debut feature acting role. She really gives it her all, and you can feel it through the screen.
The Barn Part III Is a Practical Effect Gorefest
Enough edging. Let’s get into the actual meat and potatoes of The Barn Part III: the kills. Simply put, Justin M. Seamen and Zane Hershberger struck gold. I’ve seen way too many slasher films/creature features, so this isn’t hyperbolic…The Barn Part III has some of the most insane, captivating, and bloody kills I’ve seen. Especially for an indie film. Whatever the budget was, the film looks like it was more expensive than that.
I have a feeling that there is a heavy crossover between fans of this franchise and Joe Bob Briggs, so let me put it to you this way. The Barn Part III has it all: bisections, dissections, full-body degloving, mini killer pumpkins, pitchfork-fu, shotgun-fu, vine-fu…and that’s just scratching the surface. Besides transporting me to a time and place that I hold dear to my heart, the late 90s and early aughts, this film just checked every single box for me. I can only hope the first two do the same.
The Barn Part III is a violent, practical effects-filled rollercoaster that doesn’t let off the brakes from the jump. To me, this feels like the proper send-off to a franchise I’m new to, and it’s giving me severe FOMO. Full of insane kills and a charming main cast, The Barn Part III is neck and neck for best of the fest for me. Do yourself a favor, gas up your tractor and get to The Barn as soon as possible.
Among the straight up schlock horror movies of 2026, Onslaught tactical breaches in and holds the perimeter as the top dog. Despite being hailed by fans and cast alike as a spiritual successor to Wingard’s 2014 cult classic The Guest, the similarities are skin deep. This low-budget action horror film feels much sleazier, goofier, and more melodramatic than anything that feature had to offer. But if you like to drink the B-movie bottom shelf liquors of the cinema world, Onslaught has that taste you’re going to love getting genre drunk on.
What Is Onslaught (2026) About?
Out in the New Mexico desert, an abandoned military base now houses even darker secrets. Inside a government contractor black site, the sinister Nazi mad scientist Dr. Hans Kammler (Dan Stevens) works to perfect a trio of heartless, mindless, and soulless soldiers. They feel no pain and take no prisoners, and that’s how Kammler likes them.
When the project inevitably breaches containment, as all mad science experiments are wont to do, a small trailer park called the Windy Oasis ends up on their southbound warpath. The on-site manager for the park, a traumatized veteran named Celeste (Adria Arjona), is soon forced to defend her young daughter and surviving neighbors from the ruthless revenants.
If You’re Expecting Something Serious, Expect Less
Dan Stevens’ returning collaboration with Wingard and writer Simon Barrett is basically the full extent of what this movie shares with The Guest. Outside of the deranged super-soldier premise, of course. His first appearance on screen immediately proves that; Stevens comes in hot wearing some of the messiest fake old man hair and makeup of all time, before crawling on all fours like a dog to indulge in his heel fetish with his domineering wife (played in a small supporting role by Rebecca Hall).
It’s a flashing neon sign from the outset that the film is taking itself only somewhat seriously. And if you approach it with the utmost seriousness, you’re probably going to have a bad time.
Onslaught’s Nihilistic & Stylistic Composition Doesn’t Have Time for Contemplation
Despite its premise being about literally conscienceless jackbooted thugs killing the civilian population of the country they’re supposed to be defending, not much thematically comes of it. Onslaught is oddly flat, bordering on one dimensional, in trying to make any sort of thoughtful dialogue or commentary about our current or even past state of affairs as a nation.
The film is frontloaded with as much as you’re going to get out of it: an opening credit sequence that is the anti-government, anti-military equivalent of those overstimulating “Little Dark Age” edits that loser right-wing groypers love. It speedruns the American government’s brutality throughout the past 75 years and juxtaposes it with the Third Reich over the course of a roughly 3-minute song. Sadly, we need the rest of the runtime for gratuitous action involving bullets, boobs, and chainsaw blades. It just can’t be helped.
The movie doesn’t particularly have time for good dialogue, strong character development, or flashy sets either. Onslaught is simple and honest in its approach; it’s the kind of nasty, mean-spirited, action grime that even Cannon Films would have seen as a bit much to produce back in the day. It takes place in a handful of locations, with as few extras as possible, and a lot of explosive squibs and gory kills to make up for its flawed performances. It’s got time to bleed, sure, but no time to bleed deeper meaning or substance.
Wingard’s Toy Box Is Chock Full of Carpenter Inspiration and Retro Vibes
One must imagine Wingard happy playing in this realm. The film is certainly a success on his part in terms of bringing those retro vibes and simplistic storytelling beats to the present day. It really does feel like a bloody, small budget video store pick that snuck its way onto the shelf of a Blockbuster sometime in the ‘90s, even if its modern photography betrays that big clamshell case energy.
Surgically implanted into the film are visuals and musical stylings whose bloodlines trace plainly to Carpenter’s filmography; Assault on Precinct 13, Vampires, and The Fog are the loudest, though certainly not the only parties present. How well those strains of genuine brilliance mesh with the cheaper sensibilities of the film is certainly in question. At its best, it has shots and scenes genuinely evocative of the greatest films of the era Wingard and Barrett are conjuring. At its worst, it’s basically screaming “we shot too much footage of these soldiers mogging and aura farming to not put it in the film”, leaving things clunky to transition and sometimes looking silly.
Onslaught Is a Messy Little Midnight Movie in the Making
Then again, silly is the best thing this could be. Maybe I just give it too much grace for the fun I had with it. Onslaught might be guilty of a few cinema war crimes, not the least of which is a truly grating performance from its comedic support character. But it’s never boring, and it certainly doesn’t overstay its welcome. Beloved midnight movie with mass appeal in the making? Perhaps a bit unpolished and messy for that status. But an instant classic among those who love seedy action movies? Much more likely.
