Genre(s) – Folk Horror
Director – Dean Puckett
Writer – Dean Puckett
Cast – Emma Appleton, Toby Stephens, Lewis Gribben, Jodhi May, Barney Harris, Oliver Maltman
Runtime – 80 Minutes
My Rating – ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐½☆☆
The Severed Sun made me want to take a shower, call my mum, and then run screaming into a forest – preferably not the one in the film.
The Severed Sun is a film that tells a creepy story, keeps things grounded, and throws in enough off-kilter weirdness to make you question your own upbringing by the end. Also, as a fun bonus, it includes a religious cult run by a bloke who looks like the kind of guy who’d guilt-trip you for microwaving your coffee on the Sabbath.
It certainly won’t be for everyone, though.
Plot Summary of The Severed Sun (Spoiler-Free)
The Severed Sun follows a young woman named Magpie, raised in a secluded religious commune somewhere in the British countryside, which is cinematic shorthand for “something sinister is going on here.” The community is deeply isolated, rigidly controlled, and led by a preacher who also happens to be Magpie’s father. Red flags, everywhere.
Everything in this place is dictated by some grim doctrine – marriage, music, medicine, even what you wear. If it can be controlled, it is. Magpie, who’s clearly smart but severely repressed, starts to notice cracks in the structure when a local man is murdered. The community spirals into fear and paranoia, and whispers of something in the woods begin to surface. People say it’s divine punishment, others say it’s something much older.
No spoilers, but things escalate. Slowly, methodically, and with increasing dread. Magpie begins to question not just the rules she’s lived under but also her sense of reality, as something unexplainable seems to be stalking the borders of their little world. And whether the beast is real or metaphorical? That’s part of the ride.
The Severed Sun Review: Is It Worth Watching?
Yes. If you’re into psychological horror that doesn’t treat you like an idiot, The Severed Sun is worth your time. I’d give it a solid 7.5/10. It’s smart, it’s unsettling, and it has the rare ability to haunt you without raising its voice.
This film lives and breathes dread. Not in a “let’s shove fog machines into the woods” kind of way (though, to be fair, there is plenty of mist), but in the way it holds on a shot for just a second too long, or how the sound design makes every creak feel like a scream. It knows how to unsettle, and it does it well.
Emma Appleton’s performance as Magpie is a massive part of why the film works. She doesn’t overplay anything. Her restraint is what makes her character believable. You’re not watching someone scream at every bump in the night. You’re watching someone unravel in real time, and it’s brilliant. It’s internal, it’s psychological, and it’s incredibly effective.
Director Dean Puckett clearly understands how to use space and silence. He takes traditional folk horror elements – isolated communities, ancient legends, paranoia – and blends them with modern themes like authoritarian control and inherited trauma. It’s like if The Witch and The Village had a brooding, socially conscious baby that grew up listening to Joy Division.
It’s heavy on tone and slow on pace, and I mean that as a compliment – but only mostly. Here’s where a few cracks show. The pacing can absolutely drag in places. If you’re not fully on board for the ride, you might find yourself checking your watch wondering when the beast (or metaphor, or both) is going to actually show up.
And about that beast – if you’re expecting a terrifying monster in the woods, manage your expectations. This isn’t a creature feature. The horror here is conceptual. The so-called “beast” is more of a psychological symbol, and while that worked for me, I can see how some people will feel shortchanged.
The film also leaves a lot up in the air. Like, a lot. Ambiguity can be powerful, but here it occasionally feels like they couldn’t decide how much to explain, so they just didn’t. I’m all for films that trust their audience, but there’s a thin line between mystery and confusion.
Cinematography wise, the film is stunning. Long, brooding shots of foggy landscapes, dense woods, rotting cabins. There’s even a sequence shot in infrared, which somehow makes things even more uncomfortable. The film just looks wet, and not in a sexy way. In a “there’s mold in my lungs” kind of way.
The ending? Twisted, bleak, and totally earned. No tidy resolution, no easy answers. Just the kind of “well, now I need to lie down for a bit” conclusion that makes you rethink everything you just watched.
Overall though, when it all comes together, The Severed Sun delivers a pretty uncomfortable experience that lingers. It’s not fun-horror. There’s no relief. It’s all about slowly realising how deep the roots of control go, and how terrifying freedom can be.
So, is it worth watching? Yes. But only if you know what you’re getting into. Don’t show up expecting The Conjuring. Think more The Witch, but even more reserved and modern in its themes. If you want something bleak, slow, and smart, this one’s for you.
What I liked (And What I Didn’t like in The Severed Sun)
Pros
Emma Appleton’s Performance
Emma Appleton doesn’t just carry the film, she owns it. Magpie could easily have been a one-note character, but Appleton brings a layered vulnerability that never feels forced. Her facial expressions do more talking than half the script, and it’s a rare thing to see restraint used this effectively in a horror performance.
Slow-Build Tension
The film takes its time, and thank God for that. Not everything needs to explode in the first ten minutes. The slow pace allows the story to breathe, and lets the tension build naturally. It feels like being slowly submerged in cold water. You don’t realise how deep you are until it’s too late.
Cinematography
Beautifully grim. The camera work captures the rot and ruin of the setting without being too showy about it. There are some frames that genuinely look like cursed paintings. If you enjoy visuals that match the psychological state of the characters, you’ll be in heaven – or hell, depending on your perspective.
Sound Design
From the low hum of unease to the high-pitched tension that creeps in during key scenes, the sound design is excellent.
Depth
It’s about more than monsters. The film digs into authoritarianism, the way religion can be twisted into a weapon, and how trauma is passed down like grandma’s cursed heirloom. It doesn’t beat you over the head with messages, but if you’re paying attention, it’s all there.
Cons
Pacing (for some viewers)
While I loved the slow burn, I can admit it’s not going to work for everyone. Some people want their horror with a bit more bang and a bit less brooding. This film is more “existential dread” than “scream queen.” Not really a con for me, but worth mentioning again.
Ambiguity Overload
At times, the ambiguity can tip into confusion. A little mystery is great, but there are moments where it feels like even the film doesn’t know what it’s trying to say. A few more answers wouldn’t have hurt.
Limited Set Pieces
The film relies heavily on mood and atmosphere, which is fine, but a few more standout sequences would have been welcome. There’s not a lot of variety, especially in the middle.
Dialogue
The dialogue is naturalistic, sure, but sometimes borders on flat. It’s meant to reflect the cult’s weird rigidity, but it can come off as a bit lifeless in parts.
Who might like The Severed Sun
If you enjoy atmospheric horror like The Witch, Midsommar, or Saint Maud, you’ll probably get a lot out of this. It’s got a similar vibe: slow, tense, character-focused, and full of layers.
Who might dislike The Severed Sun
If ambiguity annoys you, or you hate films that don’t spell everything out by the end, that are quite slow paced and more about atmosphere than action, you might walk away frustrated. And when I say might, I mean you absolutely will.
Final Verdict: Did I Enjoy Watching The Severed Sun?
The Severed Sun is the kind of horror film I wish we got more often. It treats its audience like adults, it doesn’t rely on loud noises to be scary, and it has something to say. It’s unsettling in the best way, and even when it stumbles, it stumbles with purpose.
It won’t be for everyone, and that’s fine. Not everything has to be. But for those who like their horror slow-cooked and full of meaning, this is a meal worth sitting down for.
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