Reviews
REVIEW: Who’s Watching ‘The Watcher’?
As someone from the New Jersey suburbs, who recently moved back to the suburbs after living in NYC for ten years, I was thoroughly obsessed with the story of The Watcher. I feel more like I’m in a horror movie since moving back than I ever did in NYC. In NYC, everywhere is so busy and loud that the suburbs feel creepily quiet and dark. So, to say I was excited about the Netflix series would be an understatement. I even have an ex who lives near the actual house—657 Boulevard in Westfield, New Jersey, and I live about 45 minutes from the house.
I’ve read The Cut piece on the whole ordeal numerous times. It’s one of my favorite horror stories. I’ve gotten stoned and fallen down many a rabbit hole on theories about the true identity of The Watcher, thinking I can solve it. The wildest thing about the whole story is that there really is no obvious conclusion—it could be anyone who sent those ominous, threatening letters to the Broaddus family. Any new information on the story, which there rarely is, leads nowhere.
The story itself is terrifying to the folks it happened to, yet to outside perspectives it might feel a little dull. The Broaddus family bought their dream home for 1.3 million dollars in 2014, a six bedroom home with more than one fireplace. But Maria and Derek Broaddus, along with their three kids, never even fully moved into the home. One night, when Derek was at the house painting, he went out to check the mail and found a letter addressed to “The New Owner,” and it was like something out of a horror movie. The first letter was threatening right out the gate, reading:
657 Boulevard has been the subject of my family for decades now and as it approaches its 110th birthday, I have been put in charge of watching and waiting for its second coming. My grandfather watched the house in the 1920s and my father watched in the 1960s. It is now my time. Do you know the history of the house? Do you know what lies within the walls of 657 Boulevard? Why are you here? I will find out… Do you need to fill the house with the young blood I requested? Better for me. Was your old house too small for the growing family? Or was it greed to bring me your children…Who am I? There are hundreds and hundreds of cars that drive by 657 Boulevard each day. Maybe I am in one. Look at all the windows you can see from 657 Boulevard. Maybe I am in one. Look out any of the many windows in 657 Boulevard at all the people who stroll by each day. Maybe I am one.
It was signed “The Watcher” and immediately, understandably, it terrified Derek. That first letter alone would have been enough to make me lose my shit if I never figured out who wrote it—But also, I can’t afford a 1.3-million-dollar mansion, so what do I know.
The letter, the writing, and the whole giving themselves a spooky name, truly feels like something fictional. As a kid, I always thought every robber, murderer, and crime boss gave themselves a fantastical name because I read too many comics and watched too many horror movies. So, this thing that felt like a real-life horror movie appealed to me, even as someone who does not get into true crime. Other than the letters and a list of possible suspects that included nearly every person in town (ranging from “angry realtor” to every person living on the street), there isn’t much evidence which only makes it feel more horror movie like—The Watcher feels like they could be Ghostface or Michael Myers (although the latter not quite being that verbose). The only substantial evidence in the case was when they identified the saliva on the envelope as belonging to a woman (I am not a forensic analyst, so I have no clue how that even works).
So, when Ryan Murphy got his hands on the story, I was both happy and worried. I am not Mr. Murphy’s biggest fan (but if I ever get hired to write on one of his projects, I will deny deny deny) and have only fully gotten through three seasons of American Horror Story. But the story of The Watcher was one that felt like it would incredibly work well as a Netflix limited series.
The Saturday after the show was released, I was very hungover and decided to binge the entire thing. I was as excited as someone with a paralyzing hangover could be. The show works well sometimes and other times does not. I think the biggest problem going into the series was that I felt like I could recite it by heart. So when the first episode presented every neighbor as a whacky cartoon villain and added more to that first letter, I was annoyed. But I persevered like the brave soldier I am (I am not). I loved and hated how often we saw a figure run by in the background.
The show became very Ryan Murphy with the addition of the “the neighbors might all be in a blood cult” storyline that went nowhere and the John Graff (played by Joe Mantello) of it all. Graff was a character who I’d thought was wholly made up as he felt like a character ripped right out of American Horror Story: Asylum. John Graff was first introduced in the series as a mysterious man who visits the home and has a creepy chat with the fictional main character of Dean Brannock (Bobby Cannavale). We later learn he is a former resident who murdered his entire family in the home and then vanished. I rolled my eyes at the big reveal that he was this murderer—until I googled it and found out the character was also based on a true story. John Graff was based on a real-life murderer named John List who lived in Westfield, murdered his family, and then vanished. The Ryan Murphy of it all was that he did not live at 657 Boulevard and his murders happened in 1971—he also never visited the home, as he was caught 18 years after the murders he committed.
The thing about The Watchers as a series is, aside from spooky letters, nothing else really happened to the family. Which is for sure spooky enough for real life, but for a show? It leaves you feeling a little empty. The show gave us episode after episode of Cannavale’s Dean and Naomi Watts’s Nora accusing nearly everyone on the entire stacked cast of being The Watcher but the only thing we end up knowing for sure of these fictionalized characters was that it wasn’t Watts’s Nora or Jennifer Coolidge’s eccentric realtor character Karen Calhoun.
A lot of folks in town, both in the series and in real life, felt it might’ve been a hoax done by the father. And, in both real life and in the series, we do know the father wrote at least one letter that was sent to the neighborhood. He owned up to it in his interview with The Cut. But they never sold their story anywhere and took a loss on the house—the series only happened when the extensive Reeves Wiedeman piece for The Cut was bought in a 7 figure deal from Netflix.
So, while the show doesn’t really give any new insight into the case and, spoiler, ends the way the real-life case ended—with the family selling the house at a loss, never finding out the identity of The Watcher, it still makes for a fun, albeit a little frustrating watch. Even to a horror fan who knows the story like he knows all the lines to the first Scream movie.
Maybe one day while staying up late, after smoking ridiculous amounts of weed, I’ll crack the case myself!
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.
One of my favorite special interests is the Mormon-millionaire-real-estate-tycoon-owned Skinwalker Ranch. Mormon millionaire Brandon Fugal has crafted a wonderfully apophenic history in his post-Bigelow ownership. His perfectly curated release of pseudo-information through the lens of a History Channel TV show did wonders not just for his wallet but for docu-dramas as a whole. Fugal did what The Curse of Oak Island could have only wished to accomplish. BUT, three years before Joseph Smith’s teachings made their way to the Uinta Basin, a group of filmmakers set out to capitalize on one of America’s strangest phenomena. Skinwalker Ranch is a film that is as perplexing as it is insufferable.
Skinwalker Ranch: Missing Children, UFOs, and Found Footage Chaos
In 2010, Hoyt’s (Jon Gries) son disappeared in a blinding ball of light. Some time later, Modern Defense Enterprises sent a team of experts to Hoyt’s property to study what happened to Cody (Nash Lucas). Upon arriving at the property, MDE sets up a reality-TV-like number of security cameras in the hopes of finding anything. But what they found may just make them wish they hadn’t set foot on this property.
The Real History Behind Skinwalker Ranch Lore
As stated, the story of and behind Skinwalker Ranch is one of my favorite bits of Americana. From the Sherman family’s story, through Robert Bigelow’s ownership, all the way to its current Mormon occupation, the history behind Skinwalker Ranch runs deep. Dire wolves, dino beavers, and disappearing orbs, oh my! Whether you believe in the stories or not, Skinwalker Ranch is one of America’s biggest pieces of lore.
One of my favorite theories is that a resource-observing beacon was placed by, for lack of a better term, aliens when Pangea existed. Throughout the years, the dissolution of Pangea shifted the location of where the aliens placed the beacon to what is now considered the Mesa on the northern portion of Skinwalker Ranch’s property. The said beacon could very possibly be what causes the mysterious 1.6 GHz signal on the ranch, or why there are so many UAP sightings around the Mesa.
How Skinwalker Ranch Wastes Its Fascinating Premise
Now, I know all of this has been discovered post-Skinwalker Ranch (movie), but Hunt for the Skinwalker and Skinwalkers at the Pentagon, by Colm Kelleher and George Knapp (and James T. Lacatski for Pentagon), had already been released. Dino beavers on Skinwalker Ranch had already been discussed. The true terror of Skinwalker Ranch had been disseminated by three highly regarded UFOlogists. So, for writer Adam Ohler (and story by Devin McGinn, Steve Berg, Ken Bretschneider, and Murphy Michaels) to craft such a plain story that doesn’t even scratch the surface of what makes Skinwalker Ranch even slightly interesting is confounding. It feels as if the writer/story creators heard the term “Skinwalker Ranch” and decided to focus on that, and that alone. Skinwalker Ranch has zero world-building, and hopes that the title is titillating enough to get someone to click ‘play’.
The singular great aspect about Skinwalker Ranch is the casting of Jon Gries (Uncle Rico in Napoleon Dynamite) and Michael Horse (Deputy Hawk in Twin Peaks). Gries does enough carrying in this film to make up for dropping that winning pass. And it’s just wonderful to see Michael Horse in a film, even if he’s cast as a token Native American whose only purpose is to make the writers feel better for capitalizing on Native American lore. Besides that, the acting in Skinwalker Ranch is beyond atrocious. In fact, the acting feels so unnatural that I honestly thought the team from MDE was going to turn out to be the aliens that kidnapped Cody. Turns out, the story doesn’t even attempt to be 1% as clever as that.
A Massive Found Footage Failure
Skinwalker Ranch not only fails at being an interesting sci-fi horror flick, but it also fails at being a found footage flick. Full of awful CGI, bad acting, and an even worse script, Skinwalker Ranch exists as nothing more than a time waster. In fact, Travis Walton’s experience in Fire in the Sky would be more entertaining to take part in than watching even two minutes of this film–I’d rather get dry probed by the Hyperboreans than ever think of this movie again.
